


More Than Just The Best Closer In The City.

by propeller



Category: Suits (US TV), Suits (US TV) RPF
Genre: Cheating, Explicit Language, F/M, M/M, au where mike stays in new york, firm scenes, season 7
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-13
Updated: 2019-08-13
Packaged: 2020-03-09 22:18:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 30
Words: 24,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18926113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/propeller/pseuds/propeller
Summary: "What are you, a teenage one night stand?" Mike scoffed. Yet, he couldn't stop himself from smiling. Neither of the men had talked to each-other in awhile. On the other side of the line, Harvey rolled his eyes. "Says the one who left a shitty note, and didn't even wash my favourite mug properly.""Harvey, there's five identical ones in your first cupboard. It's not your favourite.""It is now."( Chapters are updated daily. )





	1. You Didn't Come Here All The Way Just To Tell Me That, So Why Don't You Tell Me What You're Really Here For.

Harvey's breathing quickened. His vision became fragmented, his words rushed yet barely audible. "Mike." He panted. Underneath him, Mike was a whole different type of mess entirely. They were both glistening with perspiration, neither of them having any idea that something could feel this _good._ "Harvey, shit, ah. I can't." Mike breathed, his shaft growing even bigger from all the strain. "Neither can I, ro- Ah, _fuck._ " They both orgasmed, a second apart from each other - the sexual tension electrifying the air.

Twenty minutes later, Harvey was propped up on one of his defined, firm arms - albeit the product of boxing all these years. He stared at the pretty boy next to him, who, in turn, might be thinking about anything from merging the two biggest clients they have, or whether elephants are truly even blue. "We should do this more often." Harvey produced his signature grin with a flourish; he didn't even need a poured scotch to feel anything today. Whenever Mike was nearby, his veins were already flowing.

"Let me know when you've decided a wage for my services, then I'll consider." Mike murmured, distantly. Then, he looked up at Harvey, smiling to indicate he was kidding. "Aw, shit. Get me the terms and conditions by tomorrow, just make sure that there's an option for refunds - I might need those a lot." Harvey deadpanned, before locking his lips with Mike Ross's. The newest junior partner at his firm.

The only person he knew that could reach that position, in only a matter of a few years. When he first dropped open that briefcase full of weed, in his office; Harvey knew he was intriguing enough to take on, no matter what happened. To this day, he yet had to find a reason to regret it.

Mike rolled on top of Harvey, their legs tangled together. Harvey, in his silk black boxers, while Mike was donned in casual grey sweatpants, only thrown on because Mike wanted a glass of water and complained it was too cold out in the kitchen.

Both of them respected each other. Admired each other. Would die for each other. Okay, hopefully it wouldn't come to that. Prison had been enough.

"If I knew what this would've been like, I would've dropped soap at Danbury a lot more times." Mike chuckled against Harvey's jaw. However, Harvey growled. "Don't bring that up. Don't try it with me. Can't even imagine you rubbing against those greasy no-good motherfuckers."

"Yeah, I change my mind. Half of them showered once a month." Mike snorted, before going back to passionately making out with Harvey, his hand cupping Harvey's nape.

Harvey relaxed into the kiss, smiling distinctly. This went on for quite some time, their chapped mouths fighting for dominance, as if it was a case they wanted to lead on. However, Harvey felt Mike tense, his biceps firming, his jaw clenching. Behind them, the New York skyline was glimmering, neon lights flickering, police sirens wailing. The bedroom was barely lit, the only light coming from the lamp in Harvey's ensuite. His flatscreen TV had a 'No Signal' indicator, bouncing from corner to corner of the frame. Mike swore, unable to believe he hadn't even thought about something this necessary. It had completely escaped his mind.

"Mike." Harvey let go of him, using that tone of his that he used to say the other man's name. Concerned, yet curious at the same time.

Mike rolled off of Harvey, his moments of bliss crashing down on him, and being replaced by a flood of guilt. "Shit, Harvey, _Rachel_."

That one word.

That one person.

Harvey covered his eyes with his palm, exhaling. "Fuck." Harvey respected Rachel. She was a smart-mouthed, resilient woman, with a sprawling career lying in front of her. She was also a fantastic friend to everyone she knew. Yet, she was so incredibly paranoid, and sensitive. Harvey opened an eye, and peeked at the alarm on the bedtime table beside him. 12:33am.  She'd probably be anticipating Mike to come home. To talk about her day. To fuck her senseless. To be the warm body she slept next to.

Knowing that the fizzing, eruptive sexual mood, between them had ended, Harvey turned on his back, looking outside the pane of glass that revealed basically the entirety of Manhattan.

Mike admired the older man's back muscles for a few seconds, before groaning. "What the hell are we, Harv? This isn't the first time this has happened, and I definitely hope it isn't the last."

"You're cheating on her, Mike." Harvey uttered, barely audible. "I don't want you to become a shadow of the woman that was meant to be my mother."

"Besides the fact that she doesn't have the _huge_ thing I do, I'm not anything like her. I'm not trying to be." Mike said, licking his lips. He was barely sure of this himself. Months ago, he was about to marry the woman, for God's sake. Yet, now, he was here. A frivolity turned into a responsibility. The ever-dawning question lingered in his mind; weighed down his thoughts. Who would he choose? Harvey, or Rachel?

"You better not be, hotshot. I know that I'm nothing like that pathetic excuse of a mechanic." Harvey sat up, scratching the back of his neck, thoughtfully, and facing Mike. "Ben." Mike remembered. The managing partner of Specter Litt, scoffed. Sure, he had forgiven his mother, but at what cost? Years of feeling betrayed had sped by him. He never wanted Rachel to feel even a millionth of what his father probably went through, when he told him about his mother's affair. Truth be told, he was Ben in this situation. Nothing could rebuke that fact.

Harvey swallowed, shutting his eyes. "Here's what you're gonna do. You're gonna call her, tell her you got held up with a few briefs for the electricity case, and have a drink."

Mike Ross could hear the strain behind his lov- _something_ 's voice. "Objection." He tried to make light of the situation, but his gut felt knotted. "On what grounds?" Harvey glanced at him.

This was it. They could either end this almost as quickly as it began, or change things for the time to come. The younger man rubbed his own stubbled face, drawing a deep breath. Harvey watched him furrow his brows, his expression one of concentration. Then, all confidence seemed to return, his cocky charisma replacing his feelings of betrayal. Mike's hand cupped Harvey's length, his lips finding their way back to the other guy's neck. "On the grounds that we never finished." He murmured in response.

Harvey grinned, before pulling him closer. Overly selfish, sure, but he needed this. Rachel could go a night without. They'd figure something out. But tonight, all that mattered was him and his original associate. Only now, the associate was being put to other uses.

 

 

 

 


	2. Pretty Boys.

"Okay, so hear me out." Mike thinned his lips, standing in front of Harvey's desk, three different blue files in his right hand. "Does it include a sexual proposition?" Harvey questioned, smirking to himself whilst tapping away on his laptop.

"What? No." Mike grunted, thrown off-guard. He glanced behind him, realizing the soundproof doors weren't shut. Harvey looked up at him. He paused, as if about to say something crucial.

"Then, I'm not interested."

Mike drew a breath, grabbing a chair and wheeling it towards the centre of the room. "Harvey, listen." He sat in it, fidgeting with the seemingly thousand different levers to make the chair go up, down, and side to side.

Donna walked by the office, nodding briefly at Harvey - her suede heels carrying her busy self back into her new office that she had gotten after becoming COO. "Donna?" Harvey called out. Paulsen paused, rolling her eyes. "Yes, your majesty?"

"Do I have any ear-related appointments lined up anytime this following week?" The managing-partner asked, distracted. Donna briefly closed her eyes, preparing a response. "Harvey." She walked a step into the office. "One, I know you're becoming old, but no. Two, I'm not your secretary anymore. Three, however, I can change the fact that you don't have any doctor appointments if you happen to think that you're becoming deaf. Would be a _pleasure._ " She retorted, rolling her eyes.

" _Someone didn't have their morning coffee._ " Harvey muttered to Mike, before continuing. "So, if my ears are functioning perfectly fine, then that does mean that I haven't lost my ability to listen?" He traced the paperweight on his desk, looking at her.

Donna's expression was one of question. "No? I'm sure you can listen perfectly, Harvey. You sure did listen when I asked for those new Balenciaga shoes the other day." She smiled knowingly, realising she hadn't thanked him.

"Thanks, Donna." Harvey replied charmingly, before turning back to Mike, who in turn, was waiting patiently in annoyance. "See?" He puffed, "I'm listening."

Donna snorted. "Didn't you have a meeting with Stop-Wasting-Everyone's-Time today?" She asked, observing the bitchy expression on Mike Ross's face. 

"Haven't you left my office yet? What do you need, an eviction notice?"

She pulled the door behind her, making a 'humph' sound.

"Are you done?" Mike stood up, looking at the clock behind him.

"Are you on your period?" Harvey joked, taking a sip of water. Seeing Mike give him his death stare, Harvey chuckled. "I'm bored, Mike. I've barely got anything to do today. Turns out, managing partner isn't such an exciting position when everyone else is doing the work for you."

"Yeah, well, I do. This new client that Louis got for us has been driving me up the wall. Nothing ever does that. Not unless it's a special thing."

"Maybe they're special people." Harvey gestured for him to pass over the files, which he did, dutifully. The older man briefly skimmed through the pages. "This isn't worth the paper it's printed on. It's clear. They're asking for a settlement from someone who'll never give it to them. Not really that rare." Harvey set it down, standing up.

Mike folded his arms. "Really? Congratulations, you seemed to have cracked the case."

Harvey walked over to where he was, and perched on the end of his desk, unbuttoning the first button on his suit. "Far too generous of you to say _, Jessica._ Let's have a celebratory kiss, then." He grinned, poking Mike, who was cupping his face in his hands, groaning. 

"I don't know whether to be concerned over the fact that you'd consider giving Jessica a kiss, or whether I should acknowledge you not being professional in a workplace." The previous associate recovered, running a hand through his hair. Truth is, he behaved with Rachel the exact same way. Pestering her in her office when she was working her way through cases; casual flirting as she passed him in the associate's kitchen; extended phone calls to her line from his office, only to say 'I love you.'

The frequency of all that had decreased. All Mike did now, was go home, give her a kiss on her forehead, said that dinner smelt good, before passing out of sheer tiredness.

Harvey scoffed, trying to hide his smile, but failed. "My workplace, my rules. I can hit on any pretty boy I like."

"That's a sexual harassment suit that I'm entitled to lay on you right there, but I won't, considering you called me a 'pretty boy.'"

"Takes one to know one."

"Harvey, this case. I've been in your unattractive office from the last ten minutes." The junior partner whined. Harvey shook his head, before taking his seat back behind his desk. " _So they were right when they said that my office reminded them of Mike Ross_."

"Excuse me?" Mike scoffed. "You can't lie about me being anything close to the word 'unattractive,' whilst calling me a 'pretty boy' in the same clause." His poker face broke, though, and he grinned, trying to hide his expression.

"Says which jury? The same one that called you a fraud, you fraud?"

"I was innocent." Mike persisted, fully laughing now.

"Yet, you were so quick to jump into Danbury."

"Just wanted to show the prisoners the type of life they were missing out on." Ross pouted, his hands sorting through Harvey's familiar records.

"Alright, Oprah, let's get cracking." Harvey stated, grabbing the files and taking a seat on one of the leather couches. Mike joined him, still smiling.


	3. On What Grounds?

Louis had strutted into Harvey's office, a takeaway 'Prunie' in his hand. He looked around, furrowed his brows and realised it was empty. "Unbelievable." He muttered, his bad mood taking over. Unbuttoning the first button on his blazer, he sprawled over one of Harvey's (uncomfortable) leather couches.

Ten minutes, and a lot of prodding the cushions later, Harvey finally made an appearance, looking distracted. The name partner took a stand, folding his arms. "What is it, Louis?" Harvey drawled, rubbing his jaw.

"What it is, Harvey, is that Mike approached you yesterday with one of our newest clients, and I haven't heard back from either of you on how it went down." Louis spoke, his eyes following the managing partner as he walked over to his desk and took a seat. "What went down, Louis," Harvey began, mocking one of his oldest colleagues - "is that we skimmed over the briefs, and came to the conclusion that it's basically like every other hotshot client we've had. We take them on, realise there's a problem, and kick asses trying to solve it. But, you already knew this. So why don't you tell me what you're really in here for."

It had been one of the most peaceful nights for Harvey, his sleep was uninterrupted; just like every other time he knew Mike was staying over. It had a therapeutic affect on him. Something to do with the fact that Mike could help solve practically every problem Harvey had ever occurred. Whether it be insomnia, or fighting in court against someone like Travis Tanner.

Litt paused, before drawing a breath, and continuing. "The associates." He exhaled.

This caused Harvey to roll his eyes. "When is it not about the associates, Louis?" He grumbled, opening his laptop. Louis opened his mouth, before tilting his chin, staring at Harvey. He raised his hands, as if he'd truly given up. "You know what. I can bet you and Donna sync your responses to everything I say. That's ditto what she asked. And," he leaned over Harvey's desk, "it's not always about them, Harvey, but it's one step forward, three steps backward with these new associates."

When Harvey didn't reply, Louis continued. "It's so stupid, you know? At-least our Harvard-only associates were taught some goddamn decency. Give them a stack of files at 9pm, and they'd have it back to you by yesterday. These wild zoo-escapes barely finish filing a suit in a week, and I can't even yell at them for it."

The other man's words floated over Harvey's head, as he stared at his blank screen. Mike had left when he'd woken up. Which couldn't have been an easy task, considering Harvey was the lightest sleeper to ever be known, especially lately. There was only a rinsed mug greeting him when he woke up, and a ripped notebook page with the words: "Thanks for the coffee." Scribbled roughly in a permanent marker, on his kitchen island. Harvey had swore, before going over to his walk-in closet, and deciding on a suit to wear for the day. Goddamn Mike Ross.

"Harvey. Harvey." Louis demanded, his face only centimetres away from the hotshot lawyer. Harvey parted his lips to reply irritatedly about how Louis should consider shaving his 5pm stubble shadow, if he wanted to be at such a close proximity with him; when the telephone rang, interrupting them both.

Harvey gave Louis a look, who thinned his lips and leaned away. "Yes, this is he....No....What?....For God's sake. Alright. I'll be there as soon as I can." He slammed down the phone on its' receiver, before standing and rebuttoning his own blazer. "Looks like your client's driven us into an even bigger mess." He remarked to Louis, who's mouth dropped open in surprise. Litt followed Specter out of his office.

"How?" Louis spoke to Harvey's back, who scoffed. "The company that they're going up against? They subpoenaed all their records, found Specter Litt listed underneath the services they used, and now they're coming after us."

"That can't be possible."

"It's happening, princess."

Harvey Specter jammed the elevator button, staring at Louis expectedly. Louis took a deep breath. "I can fix this."

"Looks like your little playground problem with the associates will have to wait, Louis.' The managing partner remarked, as he stepped into the lift, and leaned over to press 'Ground Floor.'

 

* * * *

 

Mike Ross rubbed his face as he nervously stepped into Harvey's office. "I can explain-" He began, before being greeted by an empty office. "Shit." He groaned, regretting not being able to at-least have a chat with the man he spent the entirety of last night with, before business took over both of their days. Shaking his head, he walked back outside, looking at his watch. 10:23am.

Then, someone bumped into him, and he felt hot liquid splash all over his new suit. "For fuck's sake!" He exclaimed, looking up. "Damn, Mike, I'm sorry. Are you okay?" Katrina Bennett spoke, holding a paper coffee cup in her hand. Mike sighed. "Don't worry about it, Katrina. I'll just get you back next time by 'accidentally' walking past you with scalding coffee, when you're wearing some new Louis Vuitton dress." He smiled at her to let her know that it was no big deal, and she grinned, tucking a loose strand over hair behind her ear. "Give me ten minutes, Mike. I'll shout you a coffee, just the way you like it. This one tasted awful, anyway. Also, baking soda is really good for stains. No one will even know it was ever there in the first place. "  
  
It was just like her; to always be speaking with logic, and information. No wonder Louis made her senior partner. To think, everyone considered her a snobby, self-centred goodie-goodie when she first was placed at 'Pearson Hardman' as it was back then.

"Shiiiiiiiiiiit." Mike referenced the TV show that they were both fond of. "Sounds great, Katrina. I'll need the caffeine. Thanks."

Katrina smiled at him in that way of hers. "Not a problem, Mike."

Mike Ross nodded at her, grinning, before walking towards the direction of his office, shrugging off the three-piece-suit's blazer, at the same time; leaving him in only a navy vest.

 

 

 


	4. Feeling Foggy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> after this, i can finally begin some drama. writing smalltalk is excruciating.

"Rachel." Mike greeted, kissing the woman on her forehead as he leaned over the observe what she was doing on her desktop. "Mike Ross." She replied, smiling up at him from beneath her lashes.

"That's definitely a dating site. Getting bored of me already?" He joked. Rachel Zane, his fiancée, snorted. "I'm working on this case where this woman gets scammed by someone she met online, intending for a hook-up. Just skimming through the sites' terms and conditions of use; if the developers admit responsibility that situations like these can occur, then the case is as clear as day."

"Forget I asked. That's just sworn me off of dating sites completely."

"You're saying that as if you'd ever need one." Rachel replied cheekily, joining in on the casual banter. She yawned, and realised she still needed to have a chat with Donna, who'd had a hot new date. Mike smiled at her warmly, shrugging, before stealing a grape from the fruit-salad bowl on her desk, uneaten. "Could work as a good back-up plan, in case this," he gestured between the both of them, "doesn't work out." He grinned at her, but was he really joking?

Rachel narrowed her eyebrows, before pushing her chair away from her desk, and folding her arms across her lacy blouse. "Alright. 'Bullshit."

"What?" Mike murmured distractedly, looking out at the view behind her.

Behind them, it was a foggy day in Manhattan. Headlights were flashing as cars washed down the endless highways. The skyscrapers seemed to look as if they were cowering, clouds covering half of them. It was only before noon, yet it could be mistaken as a time as mundane as 4pm.

"The game we play, Mike. 'Bullshit.' Let me start." She leaned over her table,  smoothening her navy pencil skirt as she did so. "You, and I actually go home today. Together. We open a bottle of wine, you know, the one that's being saved for a ' _special occasion_ ,' we get takeaway, and we spend the night catching up." She mused, observing the face opposite of her that she fell in love with.

Mike stood up, straightening his tie. "Don't let that be a hypothetical scenario. Let's do it." He attempted to smile, and she grinned back, her eyes creasing.

"I knew you'd say that." The previous paralegal rolled her eyes, dismissing her with her hand. The junior partner started to leave, before Rachel hesitated. "Oh, and Mike?"

Mike turned to look at her.

"Love you."

 

 

 

 


	5. Not Really A Roman Holiday.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi :)

"You've forgotten me already?"

As soon as he heard that warm voice over his receiver, Mike relaxed for the first time in the day. "What are you, a teenage one night stand?" Mike scoffed. Yet, he couldn't stop himself from smiling as if someone had just told him he could do another pro-bono. On the other side of the line, Harvey rolled his eyes. "Says the one who left a shitty note, and didn't even wash my favourite mug properly."

"Harvey, there's five identical ones in your first cupboard. It's not your favourite."

"It is now."

There was a beat between them, albeit the both of them smiling at absolutely nothing. "How's it going?" Harvey questioned, swirling his chair and looking out at the view, in his office.

"'It' isn't going. I'm trumped with the electricity case. About to go see the company's CEO in a few." Mike replied easily, in the surrounds of his own office. He cradled the telephone between his neck, as he reached for a pen and paper. "He's prepared to see you?" Harvey repeated, curious. "Not really, but he will be _prepared_ once I choke his receptionist with subpoenas, depositions, and paperwork."

Over the phone, Mike heard Harvey chuckle. "Sounds reasonable, just not the 'choking' part. I know you're dying to get back in, but let's keep the Danbury prisoners safe from you for a little longer, yeah?"

"You planning on telling me when all these shitty prison jokes will stop?"

"How does 'never' sound to you?"

"Ah, can't say. To me, it sounds as good as 'stop-harassing-the-partners-at-this-firm."

" _I don't know how to say goodbye._ " The older man quoted 'Roman Holiday.'

" _Don't try._ " Mike fired back, beaming.

"Pussy." They both said at the same time, before hanging up respectively.

*** * * ***

"And,  she wouldn't even tell me who it was!" Rachel crossed her legs, sipping from her glass of wine. Mike snorted, rubbing the back of his neck. "A mysterious woman, she is." He finished the remainder of the takeaway in his box. They both smiled at each other for a few seconds, before she tied her hair up into a messy ponytail. "Mike."

He looked up.

"Let's go to bed."

*** * * ***

"Give it to me. We haven't done this in so long." She panted, slipping out of her camisole, and crawling over to nestle herself in his lap. He nuzzled her neck, shutting his eyes as he unhooked her bra from behind her. Lust took over the both of them, acting as a third party.

Twenty minutes later, it had disappeared. "I'm sorry, not tonight. I just can't." Mike whispered, swearing underneath his breath. Rachel stared at him in disbelief, almost wanting to laugh. "What's wrong, Mike." She didn't ask, she demanded. The lamp glowed the room with its' deep yellow hue. The bedsheets were drawn, clothes on the floor.

"It's not been a good past few days, Rachel." He uttered, pulling his boxers back on; which was true. But it was for an entirely different reason. Sure, he was a bit behind on the load of paperwork on his desk, yet that wasn't the reason why he couldn't get himself in the mood today. He wanted to be with someone else. Deep down, he knew this. But, never in a million years, would he admit it. The only thing on a loop in his mind was Harvey. And, explicitly said, if he spent the night making love to Rachel, he would never be able to forgive himself. Mike just couldn't do that to her. To groan out her name, while thinking about another.

He knew he was being unfaithful. But, he didn't want it to sink in yet.

When he saw Rachel look away from him, offended, he sighed deeply. "Come here." Mike inched towards the bedrest, and pulled her towards him. Rachel rested her head on his chest. Mike was definitely acting, and being different. Yet, she didn't want to say anything under the thought that he might take it the wrong way. She decided to herself that she'd look into it later. Hoping it was just a phase, and that it would pass, she flickered her eyes shut, feeling Mike trace circles on her back soothingly.


	6. It's Like The Sahara Without You

Innocently printing records from the copier in the file room, Mike hummed underneath his breath, rubbing the stubble on his jaw. With barely a wink of sleep, he amused himself with the thought of Katrina spilling coffee on him again just so he wouldn't have to personally bother with traveling to the bagel cart to buy one of his own.

He heard footsteps, and began voicing out a response to Donna, before he realized someone locked the door. Mike turned around, all ready to issue a complaint, then realized who it was.

"Harvey." He greeted, a smile tugging on his lips, dimples carving out an expression of delight.

Harvey smirked at him knowingly. "What were you up to, last night? Left you dozens of missed calls."

That wasn't true; he'd only rang Mike's personal phone once, and was greeted with the beautiful voice of... automatic voicemail. Rather than following the stupid rules of 'pressing 1' or 'pressing 3' _if he wanted to leave a message_ ; Harvey hung up.

"I missed calls from the best closer in the city? Ah. Feels bad. Sorry that I happened to be too busy having dinner with Michael Jordan." Mike replied easily. Harvey clearly didn't like the response, because he backed Mike onto a wall. "One, that's my client, and I'm not always a big fan of sharing." He spoke, his voice low and on the edge of raw emotion.

"Get used to it." The junior partner breathed, before Harvey pressed his lips against his.

This. This was what he'd been waiting for. Some type of acknowledgement that what happened the other night wasn't imaginary.

Harvey paused against Mike's jaw for a beat, waiting to see if Mike was fine with it, but Mike pulled him closer, locking lips with the other man once again. A frivolity, Harvey decided at the back of his mind. There was nothing he loved more than this feeling. Of Mike's lips against his own, the space between them suddenly way too much. They panted against each other as if they were dogs in the heat. Mike fumbled for Harvey's zipper; they had limited time. Nothing was promised.

They acted as if they were in the desert for far too long, and treated each other like water that they were so thirsty for.

"This is so gay." Mike murmured against Harvey's lips. Harvey ruffled Mike's hair, smiling. "It's about to get even gayer."


	7. Bad Habits.***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter might be intended for an older audience; skip if you're not comfortable with explicit scenes.

Harvey Specter slammed his laptop, cursing. Standing up, and straightening his tie, he sauntered into Donna's office, which was only two steps away from his own. "I need Louis." He announced. Donna Paulsen looked up at him with disinterest. "When do you not need Louis, Harvey? You don't admit it, but that man plays an important part in your life." She muttered, quickly stacking away a few files and locking them in a drawer before Harvey could notice.

Harvey could name another man, or 'kid,' as he liked to tease, that played an important part in his life. "You're telling me you don't know where he is? Because I checked his office earlier, and he clearly isn't there either."

Donna pursued her lips sassily. "How 'bout you ask Gretchen, Harvey? In case your memory seems to not function; I don't work on either of your desks anymore."  
Yes. Gretchen. That's who he should've consulted. His brain wasn't working with him today, goddamn it. It seemed to be held up in his pants, thinking about the one person he shouldn't have any thoughts about.

"Thanks for a whole lot of nothing, Donna." He finished sarcastically, as he left her office. Unaffected, the COO simply rolled her eyes. Harvey Specter had put in his time and earned his cocky demeanour and flat out arrogance; hard work and a natural, irresistible charm emphasized that.

"Harvey!" He heard heels tottering behind him, and waited for the woman that wanted his attention, to catch up. It was Rachel.  
Shit.  
"Rachel." Harvey greeted smoothly, nodding. Rachel Zane slowed down, breathing in deeply, before continuing. "I understand you're busy, but would you have any idea where Mike could be? I sound like a clingy girlfriend, but he needed help on a case, yet I can't seem to find him anywhere." Rachel exhaled.

Harvey's lips tugged into a smile at the thought of Mike not being at the office. How scandalous would he sound if he said; " _He came all over his pants. You might need to go home yourself to iron him a fresh pair._ "

Recovering, his poker face simply gave her a glance before shrugging. "Probably at the bagel cart. Remind me to fire him for taking too many breaks." He joked, but instead of smiling back, Rachel bit her lip, concerned.

"He hasn't been himself lately, Harvey. You know? But, it's probably nothing. Thank you." She pressed her lips together, nodded, and turned the other way.

"That's a new perspective." He said under his breath, before walking over to Gretchen. "Him not being himself." He finished.

 

*** * * ***

It was 10:43pm, and Mike had barely made a dent in all the paperwork from the company their client was going up against. He shut his eyes, groaning, and ran a hand through his hair. Rachel had long since left; asking if she should order him some takeaway, to which he had politely declined. "It's going to be a long night, Rachel, and I can't bear the thought of some greasy noodles." He had said. Alright, so maybe it wasn't that _polite_ , but she'd gotten the message and left, her new pumps clacking on the floorboards. 

And, now. It was a Friday night, and he watched as Manhattan slowly came to life; the flashing headlights, the police sirens, the glowing skyscrapers. The biggest dream for people who liked to party; coming second only after Las Vegas.

He stood in front of the glass panes, silently reflecting.

"Nice view." He heard a deep voice behind him, and could almost feel the smirk in it.

Mike turned, and realised that Harvey wasn't talking about Manhattan. He meant a different view entirely. "They're tailored pants, so I'm sure it's a nice view. I dress to please." Mike curtsied, before they both grinned at each other.

How was the rest of the world managed to become forgotten, every time they were alone in a room?

"How's it going?" Harvey finally asked, nodding at the stack of files on the desk that once used to be his. "Alright, not much progress. I feel like an associate." Mike grumbled, remembering what Harvey was probably really in here for. To be updated about their client's issue. Harvey scoffed, smiling. "In my mind, you'll always be an associate." He said softly, meaning it in the nicest way possible, which was a lot for Harvey Specter. Mike raised his brows at him, as if to say 'Really?'

"In my mind, you'll always be the man who hired a fraud. The fraud standing right in front of you." Mike replied, equally as low. Harvey inched towards him. "A fraud who got accepted into the bar, because of his own tremendous efforts."

"That's a big word, Harvey." Mike pouted, referencing 'tremendous.'

"Yeah, well," Harvey cupped Mike's jaw. "It's not the only big thing around here."

Mike could barely hide his smile, and he looked away. He gathered himself, before preparing a response. "And, what if I said, that I knew how to deal with that big ' _thing_?'"

"I'd say, 'objection; the opposition has no evidence." Harvey smiled against Mike's neck, pulling him closer. Like always, Mike was warm; his body the equivalent of a heater on a cold day. He looked up to see Mike's blue eyes twinkling, and felt a sense of calm wash over his chest. Calm, that was quickly replaced by a dozen dirty thoughts.

"It'd be a pity if you do that. I'd just have to get the case dismissed." Mike murmured cheekily. A heated look came over Harvey's face; his expressions seemingly colouring a blank canvas.

"File room, now. Drop your slacks as soon as you fucking get there."


	8. 'You' O'Clock.****

Their mouths burned against each other, the heat from angst, and passion causing sparks to fly. It was as if every time they kissed, they left a permanent imprint on each other. Nothing was enough.

They needed more of each other. Constantly.

Mike and Harvey had long since escaped to Harvey's apartment, the file room not providing enough, other than a quickie. " _Fuck_ , Harvey." Mike exhaled, on Harvey's king-sized bed. Harvey, preoccupied with devouring every inch of Mike's burning skin, barely paid attention. He left kisses down Mike's neck, his mouth feeling like the closest thing to bliss to Mike. Harvey's collarbone had already been decorated festively with hickeys.

Cluttered in the other room, were vodka bottles. Both of them tasted like a cocktail dripping with syrup, thanks to Harvey's bartending skills. One drink had turned into two, and two into four.

The clock was ignored, all sense of time and reality disappearing. A ripped packet of condoms littered the floor; the room a witness to their groans, their minutes of absolute euphoria. 

This was becoming a habit similar to a drug addiction. It was wrong, wrong, wrong, but they did it anyway because they loved a bit of trouble. Hell, not even a little bit. The full dosage. It was all, or nothing. "You might be the second best in bed." Harvey murmured, before his lips went back to admiring every bit of Mike. Nearing towards Mike's abdomen, teasingly, Harvey steadied himself, and looked up to observe the other man in the room.

"Who might the best be?" Mike replied distractedly, his breathing erratic.

"Me, obviously."

* * * *

 


	9. A Tall Coffee, With A Double Shot Of 'Acting-Like-Nothing-Ever-Happened.'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm a barista, and I love, love, love writing about coffee. Actually, that being said, I'm gonna go get myself a mug right now.

"Seriously, Mike, I'm glad you stayed over, instead of riding some dumb bike all the way across the city." Harvey teased the next morning, raising his mug of coffee with vanilla. Mike smirked, leaning back onto the couch that he'd spent the night on. Despite sleeping together, they never actually _slept_ together. That exceeded their boundaries. It was a silent agreement between the both of them.

"That being said, I left my bike at the firm. You think it's been stolen yet?" The junior partner yawned.

Harvey snorted. "What are you, kidding? It's the type of bike that even thieves would beg the cops to take away from them, because it's that hideous." He deadpanned, and Mike tried to refrain from laughing. He failed. " _Hey!_ You can say anything to me, just nothing to my bike. That thing's my prized possession."

Harvey gathered himself, putting his mug down, looking serious. "Okay, Mike," He said his name in that special way of his, before continuing; " _Your bike is shit._ "

Mike stood up, as if to intimidate. Picking up the rest of Harvey's toast, he gave him a death stare. The managing partner chuckled. "What? You said to say nothing directly to your bike. I didn't say, 'Hey, Mike's bike, you're shit.'   
Finishing the piece of toast, Mike's ocean-like eyes glinted. Harvey rinsed his cutlery in the sink, including the plate that Mike stole the bread off of. "Therefore, you have no basis to throw a tantrum about it." He drawled, finishing his sentence.

Mike rolled his eyes. "I'm not throwing a tantrum, but I'll mention that you're buying me a new one if something happened to the love of my life."  
Harvey licked his lips, before shaking his head.

"Nah, too much trouble. The great 'Harvey Specter' buying a kiddie bike. Imagine how awful it'd look for my reputation. Headline news, Mike. ' _Harvey Specter ditches all form of class, and elegance, by buying a greasy bike from a wholesaler. Did he have a feud with his beloved driver, Ray, or is it just his way of flipping off the world? Flip to Pg.13 to find out more._ " Harvey hypothesized, dramatically. Grinning at Mike to show he was just messing around with him, he tossed him an apple from the fruit bowl. "We're running late. You're already as skinny as a stick; eat this before you decease entirely."

"Zip it, you chatterbox." Mike grumbled, catching the shiny red fruit effortlessly. Harvey's lips tugged into a smile, and he began walking out of the door, Mike two steps behind him. Unknowingly, they both straightened their ties at the same time. Hoping that he could reach the office in time to change into a fresh suit, Mike hummed under his breath as he shut the heavy door behind him.  
"It's 10:13AM, already. You think the others won't mention how late we are?" Mike caught up to the older man, as they walked down the stairs. When Harvey didn't respond, Mike continued. "And, I'm pretty sure Ray isn't even here yet."

 " _You have to have a little faith in people._ " Harvey quoted. They walked onto the street, Manhattan's sunny weather giving them attention.

" _Manhattan_? That movie? Really?" Mike scoffed. "Woody Allen. That's all I'm going to say." Harvey Specter smoothly replied.  Reliable as always, Ray rolled up near them, and they both got into the passengers' seats. "Heading in later today?" Ray politely questioned. Harvey, nodding, placed his Ray-Bans on, and looked out of the window. Again, those feelings of doubt began to flood their way towards Mike. Had last night even happened? Harvey was acting so casual about it; and yet he complained if Mike left before he woke up. Outside, clouds replaced the rays of sunshine.

"Can we stop for coffee? My head is fucking _pounding._ " Mike croaked weakly, rubbing his nape. Wondering if he had a hangover, Harvey watched him with interest, wanting nothing more than to bend him over once more. "Sure, princess. You're shouting me one too."

Ray, chuckling, turned his indicator on. He stopped by a vendor, and Mike slipped out of the car, breathing deeply as soon as the door shut behind him. He needed to get himself together. Rachel would be there today, armed with flying questions. For fuck's sake. He dreaded having to always have to deal with her, which wasn't a good thought. Instead of loving her, like a good fiancé would, he was merely tolerating her. Mike felt like a dickhead.

"Just my regular. Oh, and a tall Americano with a shot of vanilla."  
Remembering Ray, he continued. "I'll also add a decaf latte with soy, medium, thanks."

The coffee vendor raised his brows, took less than three minutes to prepare the coffee shots, the various syrups, and the frothed milk, before handing over a tray with three towering hot drinks.

Kicking at nothing on the footpath, Mike grinned at him when he delivered them with a flourish. "Have a good day, man." Armed with that classic New Jersey accent, the barista winked at Mike, before serving the next customer in line. "Legend, like always. See you soon." Ross replied over his shoulder, walking away briskly.

Climbing back into the car and deciding not to be too emotional over Asshole Reginald Specter, he handed out the coffees, and waited for some remark by Harvey. Anytime now.

"How was your bromance with the shitty coffee-cart guy?"

There it was.

Sipping, Mike simply smiled at him sarcastically. "Better than ours."

That was sure to hurt.


	10. Get Another Piece Of Pie For Your Wife.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I :) finished :) Season :) 7 :) I'm a literal mess. No intention of spoiling it, but it HURT singing along to the theme song for the last time. Season 8 isn't available in Australia on any streaming service, so I'm just gonna have to hang around, I guess.

"Oliver, hey." Mike Ross greeted as he walked into his office. The lukewarm coffee still lingering in his hand, he placed it on top of a stack of worthless paperwork on his desk. The man from the legal clinic stood up when he saw him. "Man, I remember when this was Harvey's office, and you messed around with me about how he wouldn't mind if I dicked around with his records."

Mike rolled his eyes at the memory, smirking. "Not my fault you happened to fall for it." He pointed at him, before pushing his chair back to take a seat. "I've come a long way, shit, Oliver. You have no idea. I swear, it was only yesterday when I was standing right where you are," Mike gestured towards Oliver, "and being mocked for losing housing court."

"You lost at housing court?" Oliver exclaimed, trying not to laugh. "Shut it." Mike flashed him a smile.  "Hell, I get the shits when I stand for trial, but even I aced housing court, man." Oliver retorted, seating himself opposite Mike.

"What's going on, Oliver?" Mike asked, distracted. He hung his coat around the chair, and finally took a seat. Opening his laptop, he observed the other man. Oliver sighed. "Realized I never thanked you for helping out with that lead poisoning case we had. Anytime you need anything, I'm your man."

"Come on, Oliver, you don't have to thank me for that. Ever. The clinic's troubles are mine as well." Mike leaned back in his chair, looking behind Oliver and watching Rachel walk by. He still had to talk to her.

"Yeah, but it could've gone differently. Especially since the soil samples came back negative. I owe you." Oliver continued, his expression one of gratitude. Getting comfortable, Oliver grabbed one of the many subpoenas on the desk, and started reading out of interest. "You know what? Even Nathan was talkin' 'bout how he was wrong about you. I mean, he always says that, because you always prove him wrong. But this time, man. This was a major win." Oliver concluded, his eyes still skimming the confidential document.

Mike shook his head, the words making him smile. "You gotta thank Rachel for that too. And, while you're at it, make sure to buy yourself something nice. You're the major player here, Oliver."

"Why do you think there's a bouquet in her office? Definitely wasn't from her fiancé." Oliver winked, placing the papers back where he found them, and standing up. "Seriously, though, Mike, I'm glad we could get a home run on this thing. Sure, it doesn't compensate for all those sick kids, but it's definitely the start of something."

Holding out his hand, Mike stood up. They shook, grinning at each other. "It was never about the money. It's the message we sent across, right?" The junior partner tilted his head.

"Whatever you say." Oliver replied cheekily. Remembering something, he raised a hand. "That girl of yours, by the way? She's a keeper. Got the brains, and the looks." He whistled; like all men do when they light-heartedly compliment their mate's girlfriend, or wife, or in this case, fiancée. Inhaling, Mike rolled his eyes jokingly. "Why do you think I'm having her stick around? I like her enough to have my ring on her finger." Replied the cocky guy, oozing with natural charisma.

Walking across the room, Oliver held up a hand to gesture him leaving. "Until next time. Let me know whenever you need anything."

"I'm sure I will." Mike muttered to himself, as he tried to locate the one file he needed to show Louis. Of course it had to disappeared when he actually needed it.

"There you are. I was wondering how it went down." Rachel appeared in his office, smiling at him patiently. That expression so full of love, and admiration. This is the woman that would stand by him no matter what. The woman that he cheated on. The woman that he barely thought about, while he was getting laid with Harvey Specter last night.

Catching sight of the sparkling ring on her finger, he bit his lip before meeting her gaze. "Rachel, hi." Closing the distance between them, he pulled her close and landed a kiss on her forehead, breathing in whilst trying to gather his thoughts. He was so acclaimed for being the one doing the right thing, yet here he was. A situation he'd never thought he'd be in. Mike Ross was being unfair. He knew this. He couldn't have both. But, it was like his Grammy was asking him to choose between chocolate or lollies, when he was 8. Both sounded equally as good, and he just could never decide.

In his arms, Rachel Zane relaxed for the first time since last night. She was concerned. For all she knew, he was pulling all-nighters, being a hero in form of a lawyer. She was so completely in love with him, that nothing mattered except for him being alright. Him being okay. Sure, she missed having him home, but she understood. And, she'd do anything if Mike felt better about his troubles. If him staying at the firm all night helped contribute to that, then so be it. She could go a few nights without, Rachel thought to herself whilst in his embrace.


	11. A Bang For Your Buck?***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains sexual content, so by all means, skip if not comfortable.

Unable to stay asleep, Mike found himself panting as he awakened with a startle. He was on his couch in his office, at the firm. Briefly bringing his wrist up to his gaze, the lighting from outside the glass panes illuminated the watch. 1:04AM.

"Shit, shit, shit." Realizing he'd fallen asleep while reading over the case files, he shut his eyes and exhaled deeply. Instinctively, he pressed a number on his phone and placed it on the glass coffee table. It was answered almost straight away. "Mike, are you okay? Did something happen?" Poured through a worried voice, clearly on the verge of distress. He'd called Rachel.

"I'm fine. I'm sorry about not making it home; I got carried away and fell asleep, I guess." Mike replied, his phone on speaker. With one hand on his forehead, he leaned over and squinted at the number of missed calls, while Rachel breathed a sigh of relief over the line. "It's alright, Mike. You staying at the firm for the night isn't anything new. We might even have to get you a folding mattress for your office." Rachel tried to lighten the mood. She was in one of Mike's shirts, half-asleep when he had called. Unknowingly, she'd been waiting for him to return home. On their bed, her laptop lied open - the glow from it still reflecting on her face. She'd forgotten to take off her makeup. Again. 

Confused, Mike started to question why Rachel thought that he spent nights sleeping in his office; when it dawned on him. All those nights at Harvey's. She probably thought he was wrapped up in work, and decided to spend the (uncomfortable) night at the firm. Mustering a chuckle, Mike felt his stubbled jaw. "Yeah. Anyway, I should let you get back to sleep." "You're not coming home?" The disappointment in her voice said it all. "It's too late, Rachel. Besides, I'm so tired that I'd probably fall asleep on the concrete while waiting for a cab." He responded impatiently, wanting to soothe her, but also going against it. He wasn't comfortable being overly affectionate with her, not until this thing with Harvey passed, anyway. "I understand. I'll bring a suit tomorrow. Don't make this a habit."

Smiling softly, Mike's thumb lingered over the 'hang-up' button. "I won't."

As he heard the sound of beeping after her voice disappeared, he stood up. It was a long shot, but he wanted to check anyway.

The firm was dead quiet. The only light source came from the tall lamps every few feet. Louis, who considered the office his second home, or in his case - his first; had long since left. Which said a lot. The floorboards creaked as Mike crossed the distance between his own office, and Harvey's. Holding his breath, he looked inside.

He was there.

With a 5 o'clock shadow on his jaw, and pink bags underneath his eyes, Harvey Specter was there in the flesh, typing away on his laptop. Hearing noise, he looked up to see a sleepy-eyed Mike Ross, wearing only a white shirt, first few buttons undone, and slacks. They both stared at each other for a beat.

Harvey had no idea he was still around; so to say that he was surprised would be an understatement. "Hey." The managing partner spoke softly.

"You're still here." Mike voiced his thoughts, staring at the other man thoughtfully. Shutting the lid of his laptop, Harvey inhaled. "Where else would I be?" He asked rhetorically. Knowing Mie, he'd probably still respond. Mike was definitely the type to answer even rhetorical questions.

One of the things that Harvey lov _-liked_ about him.

"Home? Maybe passed out drunk from a glass of whisky too many?" Mike mused, staying put. Nights like these. They were touched with the edge of frivolities, excitement, electricity sparking the air. Anything could happen between the both of them. 'Anything' usually catalogued either long make-out sessions, or them fucking the brains out of each other.

Smiling, Harvey glanced at the clock. He really did lose track of time. It was rare for him to stay back this late, no matter what the situation.

Unable to deny the inevitable, Harvey stood and walked towards Mike, who, in his sleep-lidded state, had the decency to hold up a hand. "I can't." He whispered. Looking away, Mike breathed in deeply, catching a whiff of Harvey's cologne. There wasn't a girl who didn't swoon completely over the type of cologne that Harvey wore. Luckily, or the last time he checked, Mike definitely wasn't a woman. But, he could definitely feel the first-hand effects of it.

Despite knowing why, Harvey restrained himself. "What's wrong." His voice was barely above a whisper.

"You know." Was the non-committal answer. "I'm not trying to catch feelings for you, Harvey." Mike joked, hoping that the older man would be able to pick up a hint of the truth.

"You don't want to, or you won't be able to deal with it?"

"The latter."

Hearing this, Harvey pulled Mike closer. Mike was on fire. He wanted this. Fuck, he needed it. Harvey's lips were on Mike's neck before either of them could draft another witty sentence. Mike's defined arms enveloped Harvey's waist, the lust like a shot of heroin.

"Been wanting this the entire _fucking_ day." Harvey's shaking hands fumbled for his shirt's buttons.  
"Didn't seem like it." Mike panted as he pressed his mouth against Harvey's, for the third time in the week.  
"You're not much of a prodigy, then, are you?" Harvey breathed, in between kisses.  
"You're not good at expressing feelings, are you?" Ross complained.  
Not replying, Harvey simply shrugged off his shirt; his bare skin feeling like a hundred degrees.

"Let's christen my desk. Right now." He couldn't get the words out fast enough.

****

Ever the confrontational, Mike watched Harvey as he poured himself a drink. "We need to talk about this."

"Didn't know you were my high-school girlfriend." Harvey teased.

That's all it was to him, Mike thought. A joke. He was being used as a playtoy; someone to spend the night with when Harvey was bored.

"I'm not kidding. I can't keep doing this. Do you understand what's at stake for me here?" Mike raised his voice slightly, his breathing ragged. Harvey shut his eyes briefly, setting the glass of wood-coloured liquid down. "Mike." He drawled, walking towards him, his unbuttoned shirt making a sight.

"What are we?" Mike simply questioned, taking a step back.

Pausing, Harvey tried to gather himself, but he was unable to answer.

"That’s what I thought." Grabbing his tie from the couch, and on the brink of emotion, Mike left the office as soon as he could, with no intention to return anytime soon.

"Mike, wait." Harvey swore under his breath, rubbing his nape. Turning, Mike simply gave him a look. "You know what, Harvey. I think it's better if we stay away from each other for a while." Mike finished, twisting the knife even deeper.


	12. Star Treatment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're enjoying it, I'd love to get a Kudos from you; if you have any feedback, or opinions - my comments are always open.

Sweating profusely, Harvey blinked, before opening his eyes fully. The sunlight poured through the curtains, and reflected on about half of his bed. Feeling good, he reached over for a body that wasn't there; when he remembered what happened last night. So, that's what the nightmare had been about.

His heart dropped, and he rubbed his face, groaning. He'd stumbled into his apartment, drunk, at about 4AM; promising himself that he'd grab a fresh suit, and some strong coffee. Instead, he'd seen his bed, and fallen asleep. Squinting at the  digital clock beside him, he breathed in deeply. 9:53am.

Long gone were the days where he got to the office at the same time every-day. Sympathetic for himself in some fucked-up manner, he simply got out of bed, and looked for a suit that spoke volumes so that he wouldn't have to.

********

Mike Ross awoke, his left arm around Rachel. Confused for a total of five seconds, he began to get up, before last night's events' dawned on him. Apparently, he'd called a cab, and returned home, snuggling up to a warm body that he could always count on. Rachel, already awake, smiled at him, still in his embrace. "You looked so peaceful asleep, I didn't want to disturb you." She murmured, her eyes gazing into his cobalt-blue ones.

Trying to muster a smile, Mike ran a hand through his hair, feeling like shit. The fucking pits. "Sorry about getting here so late last night. It wasn't planned." He croaked, his eyes glancing at the clock.

"You can come home whenever, Mike. It's your apartment too."

She was so, so sweet.

Kissing her forehead briefly, he nodded. "I know."

********

Back at the office, Donna Paulsen worked her way through numerous files, thinning her rosy lips as she came across a concerning document. She needed to run this by Louis, or Harvey. Glancing at her laptop, she saw her phone ring from the corner of her eye.

It was an unknown number.

Donna sighed deeply; normally she would never consider picking up an unknown number, but today was different. Her manicured hands picked up the cellphone, and she held it near her ear. "It's Donna." She greeted.

"I think I'm perfectly sure of who you are." A grinning voice replied. Trying to place it, the ball finally dropped in her mind. "Stu? As in, the guy from Wallstreet?" She joked, knowing he hated being teased about ever being a part of Wall-street. "I don't ever want to hear the word 'Wallstreet' unless you're talking about the movie." Stu replied smoothly, full of oozing charm, and wit. A short, yet broad-shouldered man, he was thoughtful enough to have his own opinions, and intellect alongside him - wherever he went. That's how he made it to a position like his own. However, he came with a few cons; one of them about him having a pottymouth, with a sense of humour that almost all brokers were armed with.

"I've actually never watched it." Donna laughed seductively, an instinct of hers that kicked in whenever she conversed with someone she found attractive, or interesting enough to pursue. What could she lose, with a little harmless flirting? Her motto remained.

"Really." His warm voice poured through the phone, making her smile. "Why, is it a surprise?" She continued, turning in her chair and watching Manhattan from her office. The rest of the firm was dead-silent, which was unusual, considering Louis was always sauntering about and exclaiming about the things he needed.

"No, but it's a film that definitely has the power to impact, and change lives."

"You know what else has the power to impact, and change a life? If you tell me the reason behind your call." Donna teased, her other hand smoothening her dress for the day. Slightly revealing, and with lace inching its way around her waist, and back; It was one that had been gifted by her ex-boyfriend, but that was alright. She loved the Italian-branded outfit more than she had loved her ex.

"I wanted to get together. Wondering if you might be interested?" Stu revealed, straight to the point as always. Donna grinned to herself, rolling her eyes. "Would I be? Hmm, I guess it depends on what your definition of 'get-together' entails." Donna responded, flirting.

"What if I said it might ' _entail'_ us watching _Wall-street_ , as boring as that sounds?" He mused.

"You know what," She began, looking at the stack of excruciating paperwork on her desk. Shaking her head, and running a hand through her red locks, she exhaled. "This sounds crazy, but yes. Let's get together. Just drop me a time and place, Stu, and I'm all yours."

Pausing for a beat; she added: "Just don't start fantasising about me yet, pretty boy."


	13. What I Thought About You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Haven't posted for a day or two; simply because of one word that starts with a 'P.' Procrasti-fucking-nation.  
> Also, because of all the extra shifts I've been doing at my job; but you know :)  
> Anyway, really put in my all into this chapter. Kinda just tied up my hair, sat down, and poured it all out.  
> Needless to say, hope you enjoy. ( Would love a comment / Kudos if you do! )

Observing the glass of fine whisky in his hand, Harvey leaned over the table, grabbing his phone. 13 missed calls. None of them relevant. He'd barely been at the office the whole day; squeezing in meetings that he'd been procrastinating for weeks. He didn't really give a shit about anything right now; he was acting as if though he went through a breakup. Deep inside, Harvey attempted to convince himself that it was nothing similar to a breakup. It was a phase. But, feeling like a douchebag definitely hadn't been on the top of Harvey's agenda.

In the office barely two steps away from his own, Donna stood up from her chair, needing to talk to Harvey. She was glad she could still do that; there had been a solid week or so where they'd both been like awkward teenagers that had been caught fucking by a parent. Scolding herself internally for being so soppy; she composed herself briefly, before sauntering into his office. It was about half past eight in the afternoon; the firm empty. She'd seen Mike leave with Rachel earlier, and Louis had been rather quick to go home too; maybe something to do with the fact that he was back with Sheila.

"Hey." She greeted breezily, seeing the sight of him. There was definitely something wrong. Tottering over in her high heels, she placed the files on the glass table, and took a seat opposite him. "Donna." Harvey replied, barely looking up. "Which one of your ex-girlfriends gave you a ring?" Donna spoke light-heartedly, her own heart not in it. Her mind was somewhere else, distracted; yet she was a good friend, and nothing could deny that.

He scoffed; if only it was as something as simple as that. Gesturing for her to pour herself a drink, he sat back. "Seriously, Harvey, what's wrong?" She prodded, concerned. The cars washing by the highways below them, reminded them of how lonely they both were; even whilst having each other in the same room.

"Nothing to worry about, Donna. The electricity case is just playing with my head. Can't think straight." He lied, looking away from her, knowing she'd be able to pick up a hint of the truth in his eyes. No matter how good he was at poker, he could never hide anything from Donna. She knew him like the back of her hand. Yet, things had come in between them; had distanced them. A year or so ago, he would've gladly told her everything, the wait for her to come into his office almost unbearable. That was their thing. She'd come into his office after-hours for a chat, Harvey would pretend to be reluctant about telling her anything, but they'd both leave the firm with a few drinks in their system - their hearts lighter.

Now, both of them carried burdens that they didn't have the shoulders for. Unable to communicate, and have a effortlessly flowing conversation like they used to have; all that remained was empty smiles, and small-talk.

"Don't bullshit me, Harvey."

Or, apparently not.

Managing a small smile, he gathered his thoughts. "When have I ever?" He replied smoothly, staring at her. God, he could barely even give her a glance either. Instead of aging, over the years, she'd only become more beautiful. Her hair cascaded down her shoulders naturally, her smile seemingly seductive yet patient. She'd always had a fantastic dress sense, coming second after only Jessica Pearson.

She put a hand over his, attempting to comfort him; to try and get him to open up somehow. He was like a can lately, sealed to the world, and ironically, she didn't have one of their can-openers. Her hand felt like it was burning, on top of his.

"You can tell me."

"Not today, Donna." He sighed. Harvey frowned, reflecting silently. He couldn't go home; or stay here either.

"I want to know. It'll make you feel better. Did something happen with Paula, or -" She paused when she saw the dismissive look he gave her. Standing up, she sat on the couch he was on, and inched towards him; not giving a shit about personal space. Harvey inhaled; she was wearing the perfume that drove him crazy. Feeling all of this was too much. His emotions had escaped the walls he had hid them behind.

"Listen, it hasn't been the best around here lately, but -"

Holding up a hand to get her to stop, Harvey Specter closed the remaining gap between them. "Don't talk." He murmured, tucking a stray red lock of her hair behind her ear.

Then, he kissed her.


	14. Temptation Greets You Like A Naughty Friend

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> really hustled to get this chapter out today. the hotel that i'm staying at happens to have the most UNSTABLE wi-fi. which is a pain in the ass, buttttt ~ here we are. x

Unable to think, Donna pressed her own mouth against his in response; every thought inside her disappearing; to be forgotten. If someone had asked how she was feeling, she would say that it was like coming into a warm, heated home after a long day out in the cold. Dominating, Harvey pulled her closer by her waist; aware deep inside that no one was around to see them. Yet, there was just one slight problem. He didn't have a clue on what the actual fuck he was doing.

Surprisingly, her lips were soft against his own, and her inhales ragged as they pulled away for a breather. Not wanting to face what just happened; Harvey continued leaving kisses down her neck, rubbing the small of her back in a way that drove her crazy. "Harvey." She moaned, cupping his face with both hands; the face she'd gotten so used to seeing over the last dozen or more years. They'd gone through so much; why couldn't they just have this night? The thought lingered.

Just one night.

Their mouths felt as if they were igniting a fire neither of them could handle. Pulling off his tailored vest for him; Donna leaned over him as she settled herself on top of him; emotions getting the best of them. No straight thought was processed; and if it was, it was ignored, like every sense of right or wrong, or this being unethical, or unmoral.

"Fuck." He panted, one of his hands in her billboard-worthy hair. That time when Donna kissed Harvey whilst he was dating Paula, and then said she didn't feel anything? That was a lie.

But, that kiss was barely a hundredth of what this exchange of lust was. The space too much between them, she attempted to unzip her dress; luckily she was wearing a navy number, simple yet elegant, with a cascading zip that revealed a split leg. His breath felt hot against her ear; the flattering golden hue from the only lamp lit in his office, making them both look even more attractive than they were - reflecting on cheekbones, dimples, the glitter in their eyes. "I want this." Donna murmured needlessly, caressing his face as he found a place in between her neck and collarbones, to mark; to nurture; to love.

Everything seemed to test their patience lately; making them collide with a passion so electric, it was practically visible. The lingering smile that Donna gave him; the look in her eyes. She missed him. He missed her. Yet, rather than catching up like regular people; here they were, communicating in the only way they knew how.

However, eventually all good things end; and this one wasn't about to run for longer than the showtime was. Donna's cellphone rang - vibrating loudly. The standard iPhone's ringtone probably had never ruined the mood as much as it did at this moment. Making them pause; they both stared at each other, breathing heavily.

That's when it dawned on them on how frivolous this was. Even for Harvey; this wasn't right. Rubbing his face as she slowly worked herself off of him, and fixed her dress; they barely exchanged any words. Donna breathed in deeply, composing herself, before answering her phone without checking who it was. Anything for a distraction.

"Hey."

It was _Stu Buzzini._

Goddamn.

Harvey cupped his face in his hands, as Donna tried to reply evenly. "How's it going." She could barely utter. Why in God's name did she pick up? How stupid could she be? Over the line, Stu was as nonchalant as always. "Wanted to confirm us meeting up. I'd call it a date, but then I'd just sound like an excited teenage guy. Which you make me feel like, anyway, so." She was barely paying attention to a word he was saying. The man she'd had always felt _something_ for, was right in front of her, unable to look up at Donna. 

"Yes." She rubbed the back of her neck, her gaze flickering across the room; "I mean, yes. I'll be there. Listen, I'm going to hang up on you, and call you later, okay?" Donna spoke; the tension so thick that it could be cut by a knife, and served for afternoon tea.

Temptation greeted the both of them like a naughty friend, as she hung up, silently acknowledging his presence. In turn, he fixated his gaze on her. Waiting for her to be the first to say something, wanting to give her at-least that amount of respect. "I'm going to leave, okay? Goodnight, Harvey." She moistened her lips, and barely waited for a reply - before she picked up the files that she came with. The files that were long-since forgotten about. "See you, Donna." Harvey croaked, not even watching her leave, as she softly shut the door to his office behind her.


	15. Poured My Aching Heart Into A Pop Song

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a bit longer, but it might make you see both Harvey and Mike in a new light.
> 
> Your girl really is hustling and getting a chapter out per day; so thank you for appreciating all of my efforts. You're the best readers I could ask for. 
> 
> As always, my comments are always open to your suggestions, opinions, and overall thoughts. Would love to hear from you. x

The same night, Mike had left for home early; catching up to Rachel as she walked out of the firm. "Hey." He had said, zipping up his coat, and shivering dramatically. Cold days in Manhattan were true ordeals. Beaming, she looked up to him. "Mike." She greeted, surprised - thinking it was going to be another long night alone, with a glass of wine cradled in her hand. "I'll make dinner tonight." Mike Ross replied easily; their walking steadied. "You only know how to make one meal." She cooed, nuzzling up to him - the contact was something she'd been aching for, even though they were both wearing heavy jackets right now. "Yes, but I make that _one_ meal better than everyone else." He put his arm around her; wanting nothing more than a night with someone he knew would always love him. "Spaghetti Bolognaise." She finished. Taking up only the space of one person; they both treaded their way through the busy footpaths.

At 7pm, it was when all of the other people started leaving offices; firms; clinics. When all of the corporate part of the city, decided to head home. The rest of the world remained with the timing of 5pm as their benchmark to leave for home - yet, Manhattan had more to offer. More productivity, more hustling - New Yorkers always proved everyone unworthy compared to them, even if it was as simple as leaving their jobs about two hours later than someone from New Jersey would.

Smiling to herself, (God, she had become such a sap) Rachel walked silently alongside the man she loved.

****

Lying awake, Mike Ross stared at the ceiling. The woman beside him was long-since asleep; after they had a passionate session of making love. It wasn't just fucking; the emotion behind it carried something much deeper. He wasn't going to lie to himself, it felt good. Felt better than that, actually - it was one of their best. Yet, Mike felt disgusting. He scoffed at the thought. He felt disgusting having sex with his own soon-to-be-wife. How did everyone who cheated on their significant other, live with themselves? Turning to his side, he stared at a picture of them both. It wasn't as if it was planned to mess around with one of his bestest friends. Harvey was more than that. He was a mentor, like an older brother, a mate, someone he could get high with, someone he could go to when he had problems with Rachel; someone that he would never, ever rat on, or sell out.  
Maybe they were channelling their appreciation for each other in the wrong way, he mused silently. As someone who was talkative, someone who revealed whatever it was that was on his mind - he was struggling to keep all of this to himself. He wanted advice. Shit, he _needed_ it. But now that he'd given Harvey the cold shoulder, and knowing it would jeopardize everything if he even hinted it to Rachel, he was forced to act as if nothing had ever happened.

Deep down inside, he knew that he would never even pursue Rachel Zane if this had occurred earlier. Unlike other men, he wasn't completely inhumane. He blamed himself for not being able to control his emotions around Harvey; everything that he felt about him had intensified. Mike could barely keep a conversation with Harvey without wanting to get laid. Yet, he couldn't just casually end everything with Rachel either - not without some type of explanation. One that he didn't have the guts to give, just yet. Fuck, he was being so fucking repulsive, the way he carried on living like everything was alright. Mike knew that he could never go back to acting like it was the same as it used to be. Rachel deserved so much more than him. Someone who could keep his feelings in check. Someone who could love her the way she loved him. He wanted nothing more than to cry at his shitty situation, but no tears would come - as if they were taunting him for being such a wanker as-well. Plus, there was also the fact that he felt like a fucking pussy everytime he teared up.

Sighing deeply, he finally shut his eyes in a pathetic attempt to fall asleep. It worked, and he was out cold before he could count all the women that Harvey had fucked in his lifetime.

****

Somewhere across the city, Harvey awoke from another one of his god-awful nightmares. Shivering, and sweating profusely, he turned to his side - genuinely fed up from never being able to receive a proper night's sleep. Ever since Mike had left his office in that manner, he could barely think straight without wanting to puke. Drowning himself in paperwork, meetings, and new clients - he had attempted to distract himself. Either his mental-health was sick of his bullshit of acting like nothing ever happened, or his subconscious was, because it still fucking hurt. Then, he groaned internally.

There was a woman beside him. Covering his face with both hands in frustration, he took a slight peek and thanked the divines, when he realized it wasn't Donna. He was too drunk to remember what happened after Donna had left his office. Why the hell was everyone so damn focused on leaving his office after stepping on all of his feelings? Despising himself for everything he had caused this past week, he got out of bed. As he walked towards his kitchen, he recognized the woman as one of his old friends that worked alongside him when he was at the DA's office. He'd probably scrolled through his contacts, looking for a late-night hookup to keep his mind off of what had occurred.

He had his own ways to cope with the things that pained him the most; because he would never admit his feelings. Paula had helped for a while, as his therapist, but she was the only one who could ever reach him in that way. Now that she was out of his life too, he was alone with his mess of a mind.

His kitchen was a sight - bottles littering the kitchen island - his suit's vest casually sprawled over the couch. Walking towards it, Harvey checked the pockets, and found a receipt for a bill that he'd paid at a restaurant. _$2,248._

Holy shit, the woman in his bedroom right now, was an expensive one-night-stand. Wondering just how many bottles of vintage wine they had ordered, he walked over to his drinks' cabinet barefoot, and poured himself a scotch, on the rocks,  without thinking.

Sitting down with his frosted glass, he reflected to himself as he stared at the breathtaking view beyond him, outside the panes of glass in his apartment.

The thought of Donna hitting him like a truck, he felt weak all-over-again. He was such a douchebag. He knew they wouldn't just fuck casually in his office, no matter how far they had gotten - but what the fuck was he thinking when he kissed her? Sure, he'd always had feelings for the woman; but they had both gotten past their feelings, because they weren't suited well together. They were too close to be in a romantic relationship, and never wanted to risk their friendship; one that was so hard to come across; to some frivolous relationship. Realizing he had jeopardized things with one of the people he cared about; one of the people he'd do anything for; Harvey swore under his breath. Coincidentally, he was donned in a charcoal-coloured tee, and the same grey sweatpants Mike wore the other night when he stayed over.  
It wasn't rare for Mike to borrow Harvey's clothes, considering they both were pretty much the same size - apart for Harvey being a bit broader, and bulkier due to his boxing. Mike _. Mike._

The thought of him was killing Harvey inside. He wasn't used to feeling this vulnerable, regarding a person. He'd almost slept with Donna in the grief of Mike leaving him high and dry; but on-top of that, he was an accessory to helping Mike cheat on his fiancée, who had never wronged anyone.

Knowing that he didn't deserve to feel upset as all of this was his own fault - Harvey drew a ragged breath, his mind in circles. He didn't deserve Mike, or Donna. And the fact that he had made both of them feel this way, made him unable to sleep at night. Hating himself for being such a fucking asshole to the people that he valued the most - Harvey put down his glass, and went back to his bedroom. Not wanting to go sleep in the guestroom, but not wanting to disturb the girl in his own bed, he decided to give up on all hope on getting some rest - and walked into his ensuite. Harvey turned the showers to cold, and shrugged out of his clothes, stepping under the freezing water spray. His eyes were red from the tears that he didn't dare let escape. Feelings, and things like crying, were for people who treated others right. Not someone like him, who could barely even match his fucked-up actions to words.


	16. Coherent Thoughts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :) :) :)
> 
> LEAAAAVE YOURRRR THOUGHTSSSS / OPINIONS HAHA <3

Donna stood in front of the apartment door hesitantly, black streaks streaming down her cheeks; eyeliner mingled with tears. It was the same night that she'd left Harvey in the office; she'd gone home, texted Stu, drank too much alcohol, and now here she was. Rachel had once said to her when she'd stayed the night after having a fight with Mike; that she was welcome anytime she needed a shoulder to cry on. Well, now was the time. Tipsy from too much wine, and not enough coherent thoughts; Donna rang their doorbell once, twice, before knocking lightly.

Mike Ross, having just fallen asleep, awoke with a startle. Turning around sleepily to see a sleeping Rachel; her makeup smeared on the white pillows she was on - he wondered what the noise was, before it happened again. Knocking. On their flat's door.

He got out of bed in a haze, wondering who the actual fuck it could be. A voice, a very slight, trembling voice inside of him mused that it could be Harvey - but the common sense inside him knew that it wasn't. Opening the door, he was greeted by the sight of Donna, who looked to be falling apart. With messy hair, and only a sweater and jeans - he instantly knew something was wrong. "Donna." He stated, standing back to allow her in. She looked confused for a total of two seconds; which was a big thing, as Donna Paulsen always knew what to do. Yet, today, her mind wasn't functioning. "I'm sorry, Mike. Rachel's normally in here by herself - I guess I completely forgot you left the office with her."

Hating the fact that it had become normal for Rachel to leave alone, he sat down with her. "Tell me what's going on."

A soft smile took over her features. "I don't want to interrupt your sleep."

"You've already done that." Mike snorted, before leaning back onto the sofa. "Seriously, Donna, I couldn’t sleep either. Let me know what's wrong."

When Donna didn't reply, Mike stared at her for a couple beats before continuing; "I care about you, and I really haven't seen you like this before. SO, obviously, if there's anything I can do to help, then I will go out of my way to do it."

Still no response. The other woman was gazing at her hands on her lap.

"How about I grab Rachel? I can do that for you. She definitely won't mind." Hearing this, Donna shook her head. "Don't you dare. That woman needs her sleep. She already does so much for other people." She protested, inching towards Mike. He couldn't help but agree with that - he knew it was true. "Then you've got no option but to tell me, because there's no way I'm letting you leave without an answer, Donna." Mike continued, his inquisitive, dark-blue eyes piercing through her.

Drawing a deep breath, she composed herself before holding his gaze. "There's no easy way to say this, but I don't know where else to go." Seeing him nod in an assuring manner; she gathered her thoughts, and continued.

_"Harvey kissed me."_


	17. Professional, Nothing Else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Didn't expect to be posting today, buttttt ~

Unable to process a single thought; Mike Ross simply stared at her for a few beats. Harvey, had kissed Donna. Made the jump; had shot his shot. And, the main thing was; it hadn't even been a week since they were on no-talking terms. Donna's concerned gaze gave him a glance-over, before touching his hand worriedly. "Mike?" She prodded, waiting for a reaction. None came. Instead, he put on his best lawyer-face, and bit his lip - deciding to ditch all thoughts of what he had done to him, and focus on what he had done to Donna, instead.

Breathing deeply, he tried to act as if everything was okay. It fucking wasn't. "Did you kiss him back?"

It killed him to ask this. Killed him to even think about this.

He'd already gone through this once when fucking Rachel decided to go ahead and kiss Logan Sanders back. Mike couldn't bear it again; even if what he was doing with Rachel was wrong, and even if he deserved this type of pain for it.

Seeing Donna's expression, he'd gotten the answer he needed. "I got a phone call in the middle of it." She played with the delicate rings on her fingers tensely. "We snapped out of it. I left him there. Now there's no going back." Donna stared at the wall behind Mike, her voice devoid of any emotion.

"Why'd you let it happen?" He snapped, confused. Did this mean that Harvey was into Donna? What the actual fuck was he supposed to conclude from all of this?

"I got caught up in the moment, Mike." She whispered; completely unaware that she was jeopardizing everything that Harvey actually felt for Mike; making Mike believe otherwise. She'd obviously had no idea about Mike and Harvey messing about, or else Donna would never be sitting here, saying it so casually.

"I understand." He shut his eyes briefly, before getting up, and walking towards the kitchen. "I'm gonna grab us some water." Mike told her. As soon as he was out of her sight, he leaned against the kitchen island for support, bracing himself for the feelings of betrayal, and hurt. Fuck.

_Fuck._

Mike really had played himself. Going for one his best mates that was infamous for messing around; what the fuck did he expect? Sure, Harvey was always faithful when he was in a relationship, but the two men weren't in any sort of relationship apart from a professional one, were they?

Filling two frosted glasses with tap water, Mike returned to the dimly lit room. Donna gave him a small smile gratefully as he handed her a glass, and she took a sip, attempting to compose herself.  The other man in the room sat back down, wanting nothing more than to punch a wall. Punch something. All these emotions bottled up inside him, but he had to be a good friend. A good support.

Looking at the woman beside him - Mike cleared his voice.

"It was just a kiss. Nothing's gonna come out of it; right? You'll go back to normal, eventually. You're both grown adults." He finally murmured, his heart barely in it.

Donna nodded gently, listening. As he was about to continue, he heard a noise from the bedroom.

Wrapping a robe around her, Rachel Zane walked into the living room - blinking sleepily. "Donna." She stated, immediately walking over towards her, knowing there had to be something wrong. Donna gave Mike one of her knowing looks, before turning to Rachel. "I'm sorry about disturbing you both, Rachel." She spoke, wanting nothing more than a hug. Somehow, Rachel read her mind, and her expression, and leaned over to embrace her. "Think nothing of it."

"What happened?" Rachel asked gently.

Before he could hear Donna repeat those wretched words all over again, he cleared his throat, and stood up. "I couldn't get any shut-eye because of a file I left at the office; if you don't mind, I'm gonna go grab it right now." He spoke, knowing full-well it was past midnight. Rachel started to protest, but Mike simply kissed her forehead, nodded an acknowledgement towards Donna, before grabbing his jacket from the coat-hanger. Shutting the door behind him with a thud, Mike headed towards a specific person's apartment, determination erupting from him.


	18. When You're Dreaming With A Broken Heart; Waking Up Is The Hardest Part.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hardest chapter I've ever had to write.

Speed-walking, Mike Ross crossed the rainy streets of Manhattan; cars honking as he intercepted them. To hell with the pedestrian stop-lights, and the crossing signs. All that mattered was the person that he needed to see right now. To make him believe that was everything okay. To ensure that he didn't have any feelings for Donna. To know where they stood. In some messed-up way. Apartments in buildings were lit dimly; their towering windows lighting up the footpath. Streetlights glimmered and bounced on and off various things.

Barely paying attention, Mike continued walking in the rain - his hair falling across his eyes. Oblivious to the happenings around him; all he heard was an excessively loud honk. That is, until he realized the honk was only ten feet away from him.

He'd been hit by a car.

Mike instantly felt pain radiate all over his body; his breathing quickened. Was he dead? Was this some shitty after-life, where he still felt the possibly broken-ribs anyway?

"What the fucking fuck is wrong with you? Goddamn suicidal jerk." Someone yelled, a Californian accent slightly audible.  
"Jesus Christ." Mike panted, lying back down on the concrete for a few seconds, not being able to believe he'd just been hit. He was still conscious.

A face peered at him, before Mike Ross sat back up, wincing in pain. Realizing he was stopping all the cars, and drawing attention towards himself, he shut his eyes briefly. "How about you actually help me up, instead of staring at me like a clown at the circus?" Mike breathed sarcastically. The Californian guy that was behind the wheel of the car that hit Mike, reluctantly held out a hand. "Might as well be. Would've had to go to court for killing someone, man, and it's not even my own fault." The man who had been driving the vehicle muttered, once Mike had stood up.

"Everything alright?" A woman called out breezily, stepping out of the same car.

The passers-by, once realizing that the victim was still alive, (and a moron), walked on, while other cars honked impatiently behind them. Mike gave the woman a glance. She was well-dressed, and judging by the way she clung to the driver's arm - probably his girlfriend or a wife.

"By the goddamn grace of God." The other guy spit out. Mike seriously disliked this person. First of all, he was the one who rammed him in the ribs. On top of that, he was acting like a douchebag.

On the topic of douchebags, Mike remembered what he was doing there in the first place anyway. He held up a hand to signal that he was fine (not that it mattered) and began limping back towards the footpath. "Thanks for your generous help." He was too tired to be himself. Too tired to add any witty commentary other than that. 

The driver and his significant other simply shared an expression of disbelief, before shrugging and returning back to their unmarked car. Revving the engine of their Porsche back up, they simply rode away - leaving no evidence of what had just occurred, except for a dented speed-sign.

Not knowing whether to laugh or cry, Mike simply exhaled deeply as he began walking; intense pain wracking his lower body. This time, he stuck with walking on the footpath, rather than jogging on the busy roads.

 

********

Blinking profusely, Harvey opened his heavy door - a towel hung over his shoulder. He was wearing a charcoal-coloured cotton t-shirt, one was visibly becoming darker after absorbing the undried water on his body. Mike Ross stood in front of the other man, out of breath from walking all the way to the apartment. Harvey Specter was still shivering from his freezing-cold shower;  yet Mike was unaware of this; and instead jabbed a finger towards him.

"What the fuck were you thinking when you fucking locked lips with Donna?" He raged, his already dark-blue eyes becoming a shade deeper. Seeing pure fury on Mike's face, Harvey breathed in deeply; attempting to compose himself. He failed.

"I didn't mean to." Harvey whispered, his ego and pride leaving him completely. "Isn't that what every goddamn guilty person says? A pathetic attempt to excuse themselves? Sure, you didn't mean to do it," Mike paused, clutching his throbbing ribs. All of this was distracting him from the fact that the ache in his bruised ribs had gotten so bad that he could barely breathe. "But, you know what? You. Still. Fucking. Did. It." He finally mustered, before bending over and coughing heavily. Soft jazz played in the background of Harvey's apartment; the view of Manhattan behind them as stunning as ever - never changing despite what might be occurring in the actual apartment.

"What did you do to yourself?" Harvey swore, immediately reaching over to help him towards the couch. Shutting the door behind him with his hip, his heart silently broke inside him at the sight of Mike - something he'd never admit out loud. With messy hair, a bleeding arm, and an unzipped leather jacket - Mike was still as close to Harvey's heart as ever. Mike Ross ultimately remained the one thing that unravelled him. Unbound him. Led Harvey to do unimaginable things; things he'd normally never do sane.

" _What did you_ do to Donna?" Mike choked out, barely being able to look up. He shut his eyes as the waves of pain rode over him. Crouching down to eye-level with the seated man in the room, Harvey looked at him.   
  
"I'm not going to lie to you. I never will. I kissed her to feel something. All I felt _was the absence of you_. I've been kicking myself ever since it occurred; I'd do anything to take it back. And, instead of getting drunk and keeping at a distance away from you, I became drunk, kissed one of my closest friends, and brought some girl home with me. I don't mind if you never forgive me. In fact, fuck, I understand." Harvey murmured, his eyes moistening. He felt like a fucking pussy.

Looking up, Mike saw an expression he'd never seen on Harvey before. One of vulnerability. One of the loss of power. Even as a managing partner of one of the rising law firms in Manhattan, Harvey had no idea what to do next. Turning away before Mike could continue staring at him falling apart inside, he licked his lips and clenched his jaw; attempting to restrain his emotions.

Emotions, something that the infamous Harvey Specter claimed he didn't have.

Well, he didn't - until Mike Ross stumbled into his life with a briefcase full of weed, and a heart made out of gold.

"But, Mike." He finally continued, shutting his eyes - his long lashes making him look child-like somehow.

"I'm so fucking sorry. I'm sorry about being in your life. Being a wrecking ball. Landing you in prison, even when it was my fault since I never should've hired you. But I did. I hired you. And it was the bes- _it was something I'll never regret._ "

Mike didn't react.   
This killed Harvey inside, but he swallowed, and continued anyway.

"I'm going to continue sounding like a wuss, but I'm sorry for kissing Donna. So fucking sorry. I want to apologise for all of the pain I've put you through; even the indirect pain, like your bruised ribs right now. Like, seriously, if you were that desperate to see me - I could've called you an Uber. Those exist too, in case you forgot." This got a small smile out of Mike. One barely visible, but there all the same. Harvey, after seeing it, breathed deeply and continued.

"I'm one lousy motherfucker. I make you go through all of this, I'm making you cheat on a woman that would never deserve it, I'm the person that can't even man up to his own feelings."

Knowing that if he didn't get it all out today, he never would be able to - Harvey Specter rubbed his face, knowing that a curious Mike Ross was watching him. 

"Despite all of that, this asshole cares about you more than _anyone else ever could."_

 


	19. 999 Unanswered Questions.

Mike sighed deeply, mostly from all the pain that was making him weaker by the second. "I need time. Actually don't even know why I came here in the first place. There was only one thought on my mind, and that was you." Mike chuckled sarcastically, bringing up his emotionless gaze to meet Harvey's vulnerable one. When Mike didn't continue, Harvey let the sentence hang in the air, staring at the face he'd had nightmares about this entire week. Then, something inside of Harvey snapped.

Nodding in frustration, and internally kicking himself for revealing everything he felt just like that; Harvey Specter stood up to his towering height, and walked over to his kitchen cabinets; rummaging for a sheet of pain-relief tablets. Fuck feelings, Harvey thought. Never lead you anywhere. Always kept you on your toes, always made you disappointed, because the other person never felt about you as deeply as you did for them.  
  
"I'm pretty sure you grazed your arm; pretty deeply, considering. Won't need stiches, but it was a close call. Your ribs are most likely bruised; been there, done that." Harvey hummed, filling a crystal clear glass full of tap water. He avoided making eye contact with Mike; looking at anything other than the man who he'd just spilled everything that he felt, to. Goddamn, he wasn't even that confronting with any of his exes, or even Donna.

"How'd you know about the ribs?" Mike Ross asked casually, as if he totally did not see a whole new side to Harvey. One that made his heart bleed. Yet, Mike remained nonchalant. He always played too easy to get; he wanted to see if Harvey would actually do anything to fight for him; to go through a fraction of what Mike had been through; to attempt to keep him.

Harvey finally met Mike's gaze, giving him a longing look - as if the small-talk put him in more pain than Mike's pain from the accident. This desperate, loving expression only lasted for 0.2 seconds, before he easily replaced it with one of his charming close-mouthed smiles. "Boxing. Surprise, surprise; being in a direct body-contact sport like that does lead to a few injuries, Mike."

Bringing over a fresh roll of bandage, the medicine, and the glass of water - Harvey took his seat next to Mike Ross; glancing at the clock while he was at it. 4:22am. And, it was a weekday. "We need to get you to a hospital, by the way." Harvey continued tiredly, tenderly taking Mike's arm in his own, and wrapping it carefully.

Mike watched him as he did so; tearing up - emotions taking over the best of him. He wanted to know whether or not everything would be okay. He wanted to ask Harvey a thousand questions; 999 of which that he knew the other man wouldn't have the answer to.  
"I don't think so." He instead gulped, in reference to Harvey wanting to take him to the hospital. The contact between them feeling like sparks of electricity. They were both fully-clothed, yet the expression that they shared with each other might as well have been the same expression between them when they were both on the same bed, with only boxers on.

"I do." Harvey finished wrapping the injured arm, and popped two pills, handing them to Mike, who dutifully swallowed them with a sip of water. Staring at the younger man expectedly, he leaned back onto the couch, wanting to know what happened to Mike Ross.

"I got in a fucking car accident. Can you believe it? I was just crossing the road, really. Some Californian motherfucker rams me with his Porsche, and the only reason he even got out of the car was to see whether his Porsche had any dents. It didn't."

Harvey inhaled sharply, not knowing what to do or say next. "Let me guess, was the model a ' _914_ ' by any chance?" He deadpanned, referencing one of the arguably worst Porsche models of all type; a clunky sports make that no one knew what to do with.

Letting out a small laugh, then wincing immediately as he did so - Mike shook his head. "A _912_."

"Equally as bad." The managing partner scoffed, rolling his eyes. The number of cars that Harvey owned were excessive, but his car knowledge was even more excessive.

After a few silent beats, the older man stood up - knowing that he needed to get Mike to the hospital somehow. Arguments could be argued later. All that mattered now was ensuring that Mike Ross wasn't in any pain.

 


	20. I Say, 'No, No, No.'

Harvey Specter had one arm around Mike Ross, platonically. The other man could barely walk straight, and worries about telling Rachel about what happened, etched on his mind. Luckily, Ray pulled up just in time on the footpath - making them avoid any awkward small-talk. Smiling gratefully at Ray for showing up at 5am, when he had a family of his own - Harvey got into the backseat with Mike.

There was an evident distance between the two, and Harvey inched over towards his window, staying even further away from Mike. Sure, he respected the space that Mike Ross wanted; but at what cost? All Mike wanted was to curl up to Harvey; to spend the night with him - as unrealistic as it sounded. Streetlights washed by the windows as Ray started the engine, and began driving at a snail's pace to the nearest hospital. With only countable hours until dawn - Harvey was considerably calm.

Breathing in deeply, and someone that was unable to bear awkward silence, Mike cleared his throat. "I know you're dying to know what happened, Ray. Ask me." He hummed light-heartedly, earning a questionable look from Harvey. Ray chuckled, glancing into the rearview mirror. "Alright, you got me. What happened?" Ray spoke, ruffling his own hair. "Right, so listen to this -" Mike started saying, his cheeky tone returning, the pain-killers having taken affect.

As Harvey listened to Mike repeat the story in an amusing way that made Ray laugh - he frowned, realizing how much he missed Mike Ross. Mike had that childlike demeanour in him, that never failed to make other people smile - no matter what the issue was.

"He was _jogging_ on the _road_ at _3AM._ Does that not call for a psychiatrist check-up?" Harvey interrupted, his cocky charm making the conversation flow even more easily. Mike snorted, gesturing at Ray. "You would know, considering you _dated_ like half of the psychiatrists out there." The younger man placed a hand on his abdomen in attempt to lessen the pain, and said sarcastically.

This got a smile out of Harvey. "I’m pretty sure Paula counts as one person, not as _half of the psychiatrists in the world_. And, get your facts right, Sherlock. She was a therapist."

"Whatever. You know better about this, I'm not one to argue. Right, Ray?" Mike joked - seeing the local hospital grow nearer in the distance. "Can't say I disagree. Sorry, Boss." Ray murmured dramatically. This got a mock-disbelief look out of Harvey, who grew serious as soon as he saw the hospital as well.

"Right, don't even mention a car. They'll question legibility due to you not reporting it as soon as it happened. I say that our safest bets are with acting as if you got into a fight. Don't drop names, not even any fake ones. It'll call for a questionable suit that you really don't need right now. Let them treat you; and the sooner we can get out of there, the better." Any signs of an emotional Harvey Specter disappeared, and was replaced with one of the top lawyers in New York - one that was full of information, matter-of-factly, and a true hustler.

"What if Rachel finds out about this, though, Harvey? It's exactly why I didn't want to come here in the first place." Mike raised his voice.

"Let's hope you're an outpatient, or a day-patient at the very most, then. Or, you could just tell her the truth." Harvey raised his brows suggestively. He was met with a death glare. "You know exactly why I won't be telling her the truth." The reply came.

The two lawyers glanced at each other, at the edge of another argument. Then, Harvey remembered the situation, and shut his eyes briefly. "What about the _Privacy Rule_?" The managing partner of Specter Litt suggested.

Mike wracked his brain for the rule, trying to remember it. It dawned upon him. "Alright… Under the

federal _Health Insurance Portability and Accountability Act of 1996_?"

"That's the one. It might clash with a few of the arguable points under the notion, but we might get away with it if Rachel demands to see you. I'll make sure to give her an appropriate excuse if you do have to stay overnight. Yet, she is a fierce woman, especially when it comes to you."

" _Privacy Rule requires that hospitals and medical facilities provide patients with an opportunity to object to, or "opt out" of, including their information in their respective directories._ " Mike Ross, with his incredible memory, recited dutifully. Harvey nodded distantly, whilst Ray looked confused at all of this legal-talk.

"Do you hotshots care to explain?" The driver questioned, pulling up to the hospital's parking. In a city like Manhattan, things like police stations and hospitals never slept. Even now, there were dozens of people exclaiming, and leaving the hospital doors - their various injuries differentiating them.

"So, basically, this Privacy Rule was created so that patients can disclose their identity, and their room-number from any visitors. No matter who it is." Mike explained patiently, leaning over to observe the place. "What if it was their mother, or their wife?" Ray mused.

"Some people don't like others seeing them sick, or in an unstable state." Harvey murmured quietly, being able to relate. 

"Yet, this rule also helps out legally. Only thing is that since it's not really an official law, it might not be applied to every hospital." Mike cooed thoughtfully, wondering what Harvey meant. The pain had lessened, and his mind was back to thinking overtime.

"Fair enough." Was all that Ray could muster, before turning off the engine.

 

********

 

"So, what did you say your name was again?" A blonde nurse drawled, her nurse cap positioned loosely. Wearing excessive make-up, especially for a night-shift, she looked back up at the two attractive men; smiling charmingly. Mike wasn't in the mood for the attention, even if it was mostly directed towards Harvey - having bruised ribs, and a bleeding arm was no joke. He was pretty sure that his arm wasn't the only thing bleeding. They'd been waiting for seemingly hours. A large, obnoxious digital clock signalled the time as ' _5:06AM_.'Daylight was obviously breaking through - and Harvey, who wasn't in the habit of sitting on uncomfortable, plastic chairs, wasn't any less snappier than Mike was. Their bad moods were obvious. 

"Mike. Mike Ross."

As Mike continued helping the standing nurse fill out the information form - Harvey observed the rest of the room.  It was crowded, and full of mostly crying kids.   
"How'd you end up like this?" Her Southern accent interrupted his thinking. Thinking on his feet, Harvey replied promptly.

"He lost in a boxing match. Against me."

The nurse checked out the older man once again, obviously interested in a sexual manner. Licking her lips, she giggled. "You were boxing at this time of the day?"

Ignoring Mike's death stare, Harvey nodded cockily, smiling carelessly. "Any problems with that?"

Harvey thought it was cute whenever Mike got annoyed. This was especially true for whenever Harvey stole Mike's bagel, or his coffee, or did something dumb just to get a reaction in general. Mike looked away, trying to hide his amused smile.

Despite everything that always happened, or no matter how big the fuck-up; they still knew the secrets to each other's hearts, in some way or another.


	21. And, Then What?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It takes me so long to plan, write, and edit these chapters; that it's driving me crazzzy. Like it took me 1.5hours on a chapter this short? Wilddd.
> 
> Also! I ! Have ! My ! Exam ! Tomorrow! Bye. I'm leaving the Earth, deadset.

Mike was propped up on one of the hospital beds - dosed up with more than enough acetaminophen, and water. Applying ice to his bruised ribs, he shut his eyes and exhaled. Harvey, sitting across him in one of the uncomfortable visitor chairs - spread his legs, attempting to become comfortable. It didn't work. "What the fuck is up with these chairs?" He finally mumbled, frustrated, and wanting to sleep. Mike opened one eye, before smirking. "Sucker. I get the bed." Mike snickered, the medicine making him feel woozy.

Harvey glared at him. "Along with two unfunctional ribs."

The alarm clock signalled 7:23AM. It had been one of the longest nights. Harvey reached over for Mike's cell, and switched it on. One missed call from Donna, and surprisingly, only three from Rachel.

"You only have four missed calls." Harvey said out-loud, observingly. Mike snorted, rolling his eyes as a nurse came in. The same nurse that had taken them in. She smacked her glossy lips, smiling sweetly at the both. "Men." She greeted, bringing over an outpatient form. Seeing the outpatient form, Harvey relaxed. This meant that they only had to stay for a few more minutes, or at most - another hour, before they could leave and continue on with their lives.

"I never got your name, by the way. Neither did I get your phone number. Tragic." Mike drawled, totally out of it. This meaningless flirting made Harvey hide a smile, as he saw the surprised expression on the nurse's face. Looking around to see if anyone was around - she leaned over to whisper in Mike's ear. "Carolina. And, we always provide phone numbers at the end, in case any of our patients require -" She giggled seductively, before continuing. "Extra aid, provided in the comfort of their own _bedroom._ "

This made Mike shoot a suggestive look at Harvey, who simply delivered a Gallic shrug, as if to say - "What can I do?"

"You'll have to excuse him - the acetaminophen's got him out of it. He probably won't even remember all of this by tomorrow." Harvey Specter pathetically attempted, knowing full-well that this Carolina woman wouldn't pay attention to him, anyway.

Mike nodded in agreement, grabbing the form off of the nurse. "Where do I sign?" He asked, serious now. Skimming over the legal document, he made a mental note to ask Harvey to help him cover the hospital visit later somehow.

"Here." She beamed, pointing at a slanted line. Deliberately, Mike brought up the hand with his sparkling engagement ring on it, and signed the document theatrically. Seeing the ring, Carolina looked up, scowling. She took the signed documents with a hurry, and breezed out of the room - not even acknowledging either of them as she left.

"Did I really just ask her for her number?" Mike snorted, rubbing his face. Raising a glass of water to his mouth, he took a cautious sip.

"You've got the hots for the Southern chick with the surprisingly big tits." Harvey deadpanned, stretching.

This made Mike spit out the water he was about the swallow. Coughing, he looked up - a grin taking over his precise features.

" _Southern chick with surprisingly big tits_." The younger man repeated in disbelief, not even knowing where to start with this sentence.  "Well, aren’t you just another Edgar Allen Poe?"

Birds chirped outside, signalling the early-morning. It was coffee-o'-clock, as New Yorkers liked to call it.  
The other man fake-curtsied, clearly in need of sleep - judging by his red eyes.

"You know I left an one night stand back at the apartment, right?" Harvey said out-loud, as he swiped through notifications on his own phone. Mike, remembering that they were both much more than just friends, sobered. "Right." Mike murmured distantly. Harvey smiled sheepishly. If he wasn't that drunk, he never would've done it. But, he somehow did bring some old friend back to his apartment, and there was nothing more that he regretted.

Except, maybe, that one kiss with Donna. Or was it the second? He couldn't keep count of the frivolous kisses that himself and Donna shared.

The truth was, he didn't want to share any kisses, or anything else with anyone other than Mike Ross. But, considering the fact that Mike was sick of cheating on Rachel - Harvey couldn't do that either. Everything was so fucked up. Especially the fact that they were here joking around, in a hospital room, on a day that they'd both normally be in the office.

"She called. Seven times."

"She's more concerned about you, than Rachel is about me."

Sliding up on the screen to call her back, Harvey simply nodded distractedly in response. "Hey." He greeted, raising the phone to his ear. Even from all the distance, Mike could hear the whining on the other side of the phone. Yikes. "She sounds like a handful." Mike mouthed. "She is." Harvey mouthed back.

There wasn't a day where the men didn't want each other. But, other things intercepted; making them feel more distant from each other than ever - instead of being close.

 

 


	22. "XOXO"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter intended.

Rachel stretched in bed, watching the dark skies from her bedroom's window. Donna was in the guestroom, fast asleep - having been through way too much. At this point, she had gotten used to Mike not being around. She didn't really mind.

The thing was; that when you didn't have someone constantly around in your life; you started to lose feelings for them. Sure, you still loved them; but the love was like a petrol tank, needing constant filling-up. Her petrol tank was empty. Barren. Apart from them making love last night, they'd barely had any contact. No proper conversation, no intimate actions. Mike was cold; distant; hard to reach, lately. He wasn't the person she had fallen in love with.

 As she licked her lips, her phone buzzed next to her. She turned, and smiled at the notification. The person who had just messaged her, was definitely a guy. But he didn't start with an M.  _And, it wasn't her father either._


	23. Tilt On A Different Axis

"What took you so long?" Louis scowled, pacing around in Harvey's office. Harvey, having just returned from the hospital, and escorting Mike home - shrugged his coat off. "That's not what your wife said to me last night." Harvey grinned as he took his seat.

Louis's mouth dropped, before he furrowed his brows. "Okay. One, that is so not funny anymore. Two, I only just got back with Sheila, so making jokes like these is off the radar."

"Whatever you say, Louis. Just let me know when it's back on the radar, though." Opening his laptop, he rubbed his face, having gotten no sleep. He was glad he was back on talking-basis with Mike, again, but even that wasn't guaranteed. Harvey wanted to come clean about all of this. His feelings for Mike developed more and more, each day. Yet, he was too much of a pussy to admit them. Emotions were clearly not designed for Harvey Specter; his world seemed to tilt on a different axis.

"I had a deposition with the clients yesterday." Louis ignored Harvey's previous remark, and spoke as he sat down - unbuttoning his blazer. His voice was strained, yet rung clear in Harvey's excessive office. It was just past noon - but corporate lawyers on the higher ropes, had no regard for time or space. "Right." Harvey murmured distractedly, seeing a suspicious email. Opening it confirmed his doubts. Another problem he'd have to deal with later. It was from Jeff Malone; the man who was dating Jessica Pearson, and also a respectable lawyer on his own.

"Jeff Malone just sent me an email. About Jessica." Harvey frowned, resting his chin on his hand. "What's it for?" A curious Louis spoke, unwrapping a Bran Bar, as he did so. "Who gave you permission to eat in my office?" Harvey looked up as he saw the wrapper. Louis simply shrugged, and gestured for Harvey to continue, taking another bite.

"Anyway." Harvey finally continued, after glaring at Louis. "He's just tossing us an update." Harvey finally gathered his words, and lied, not wanting to discuss it in depth. All he knew was that he had to deal with it somehow, and preferably - not under the direct eyesight of Louis Litt, who had a reputation for exceeding things and exaggerating them for more than what they were. Perhaps that's what made Louis such a damn good lawyer. Every corporate lawyer out there had their own tactics, and little tics to help them achieve their long-term goal; or in this case, a literal case.

Louis made one of his signature faces to react at the sentence, before shrugging, letting the subject drop. What he had to tell Harvey was much more important anyway. "So, about the deposition…" The broad, short man finally began, once the pretty hotshot lawyer in the room slammed his laptop shut and gave him his full attention. "My ears are wide open, Louis." Specter finally sighed, leaning back into his chair to listen to the latest update about their huge ongoing case against one of their major clients.

********

"Is that all?" Harvey took a sip of water from the tall glass on his desk, perching on the edge of his modern workdesk. They had been discussing the case for the last hour, and the managing partner wanted nothing more than to go home even if the clock had only yet stuck 2.

Louis paused for a second, thinking, before nodding slowly. "Yup, that's about it." Flashing a bright, toothy smile at one of his oldest friends, Litt was about to leave the room before he remembered something and stopped in his tracks.

"Scottie was asking about you."

The single sentence made Harvey Specter inhale sharply, as he turned away from the generous view of Manhattan, to instead look at Louis. "Why did you contact her, Louis? There was literally -"

"Before you say anything, Harvey, she was the one who called me. I know you haven't talked at all other than ask favours from each other; but she's curious to know how you are. And, I for one, do think that perhaps you should pick up that greasy phone of yours and actually use it by giving it a dial. Like, if you haven't noticed, calls are entirely free in this firm. It's a part of what we do. Sure, maybe not entirely for personal reasons, but -"

Harvey interrupted the bulkier man by giving him a glare, cutting off his rambling. "You can tell her I'm doing fine, if she asks again, which she probably won't considering that she'll just need me to pull in a favour again. I still owe her one." The taller man responded tight-lipped. Donna, Scottie, Mike, that girl that he had a fight with this morning, everything seemed to be driving him crazy.

He had officially reached one of the lowest points in his life. And, unless he did something major, there probably wouldn't be any ropes or ladders to help him shortcut out of this dilemma with all the people he cared about the most.


	24. Even A Double-Shot Espresso Can't Solve This

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 2 chapters ago; I casually hinted that Rachel might be cheating on Mike. Just for context. :)))

_It had stung._

Well, both the pain-relief injections, and the fact that Harvey had called his one-night-stand whilst being in the same room as Mike, as if he wasn't around at all. Deep in thought, Mike  barely noticed a sleepy Rachel suddenly screech in surprise as she saw him; bandages in all; on their couch. At-least Harvey had the generosity to escort him inside his apartment, before claiming that he was running late. Neither of them had made any eye contact then.

"It's a long story." Mike breathed, shutting his eyes. "I swear, Mike, if Harvey laid a finger on you then- " Rachel began, her voice noticeably lower as she had remembered that Donna was asleep in the other room.

"No, what? Why would Harvey lay -" Mike spluttered, confused, his bright eyes shining in curiosity, before it clicked. Both Donna and Rachel thought that he had gone over to Harvey's apartment to confront him about kissing Donna. Little did they know, Mike was too busy getting into a car-accident, and then having a long talk with Harvey to sort his own shit out; rather than talk about Donna.

Thinking about Donna and Harvey kissing made Mike see red all over again.

"Listen, Rach, it wasn't Harvey. Sit down, I'll explain." Mike finally uttered, craving a bagel and some strong coffee. More than coffee, actually. It had been a long time since he'd rolled a blunt, but being high was definitely something that Mike wanted to help get him over all of this.

As a hesitant Rachel took a seat, making sure to hide her phone from sight; her injured fiancé took a deep breath before explaining the car accident, making sure to include the part about the driver being a Californian wanker with his show-off Porsche.

********

"Again, Rachel, I really appreciate this. I also can't believe you have my dress from all those months ago. Hopefully no one will notice how I've already worn it before." Donna winked, almost back to normal, over a cup of steaming black coffee. Rachel gave Donna a weak smile from over the kitchen island. She'd given Mike a bowl of freshly-made chicken soup, and made sure he was resting in the bedroom, before waking Donna up.

"You sure you can go into the office today?" A concerned friend spoke, making Donna snort. "If not now, then never." Was her reply, before she downed the rest of the caffeinated liquid.

The dark-haired woman delivered a grin, as she scooped up both of the mismatching mugs, and dusted herself down. "In that case, I'll join you. You need woman power, Donna. Another person backing you. I will fulfil that duty." Rachel leaned over, and spoke, mock-serious.

"At all costs?" Donna caught on, her face void of any expression. "At all, and at any cost." Rachel confirmed, before they exchanged a grin and giggled together.

Deep inside, Donna could feel herself shattering. How she was going to tolerate being an office away from the man who had so passionately made-out with her; she had no idea. All she knew was that she'd lose all respect for herself if she backed out of it now. So, she covered any hesitance with a charming smile, before following suit as Rachel walked out of the apartment, pausing only to grab her handbag from the hanger. Sure, her makeup was patchy, and her hair slightly less presentable then it normally was - but she could deal with that in the ladies bathrooms. Her main issue was, Harvey Specter.

They were both halfway down the street, engaging in careless small-talk, before Rachel remembered something that made her stop dead in her tracks. "Give me a second, I forgot my phone." She faked a laugh, and shook her head. Donna rolled her eyes to tease her, before she stopped walking as well. "Take your time. It'll give me a chance to attempt to look better while I wait."

"Shut it, Donna. You always look good." A nervous Rachel smiled, before she tottered in her heels back to the apartment she shared with her fiancé.

As she rushed up the stairs, and finally unlocked the door - she grew frustrated at the thought that she could be so careless. She'd left her phone right next to Mike, when she was giving him that damned bowl of soup.

As Rachel walked into their bedroom, she was greeted by the sight of a confused Mike Ross, who was only seconds away from changing everything. They made eye contact, before she tried to say something, seeing him hold her vibrating mobile phone in his hand. The same hand with her ring on it. Mike held up a hand, giving her a heartbroken expression before finally croaking out a sentence.

 _"_ Who's _'Derek'?"_

 

 

 


	25. "I Miss You, Baby."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hmmmmmm.

"Mike." Rachel breathed, almost as if she was about to step on glass. Whenever you knew you were about to step on glass, instead of stepping back as it was too late; it was crucial to walk by it lightly. To avoid damaging as many pieces as possible. Tucking a strand of her recently straightened hair behind one of her pierced ears, Rachel closed her eyes.

"It's not what you think it is."

"Then, explain to me right now, Rachel, because you've cheated on me before with that Sanders bastard, and now here I am; finding dozens of messages back and forth with this guy. And, let me just clarify - from what I can read, these aren't just friendly."

Knowing this would take time to sort out, Rachel's expression turned into one of pleading. "I need you to understand my side, baby. Plea-" She began walking towards him, but he put the phone calmly on the bedside table, and began stepping backwards from her. Her heart broke as she saw him wince in pain; the effect of the medicine obviously wearing off; but he acted as if everything was fine. With his best lawyer face on, Mike Ross stood in front of his beautiful fiancee, only donned in a grey thermal shirt, and black sweatpants. His hair messily covered one of his brows, and his lips were thinned - eyes dull and without any affection.

Yes, what Mike had done to Rachel behind her back wasn't entirely ethical either. Yes, he'd been cheating on her. Yes, Rachel had cheated on him too once. That's what the human species did. They lost feelings for the one that they were meant to be with, and lost that connection permanently by going for someone else.

However, Mike had never imagined that the person that he trusted the most would do this to him.

He didn't deserve to feel like this, he knew this. Mike wasn't entirely a priest either. But, thoughts of him being guilty as well aside - he was hurt. His heart ached, too weary of carrying all this weight lately.

"Understand what? What do you want me to understand. I actually can't even believe -" He scoffed, chuckling sarcastically at the absurdity of it all. This moment. This exact moment, with the curtains draped pathetically to hide the sunlight behind them; a bowl of half-eaten soup on the side. Clothes scattered on the floor - the en-suite bathroom still full of escaping steam from a recent shower; was when Rachel Zane realized that she had lost him. She had lost Mike Ross. Physically, sure, that was a long time ago - but this time, emotionally as well. The poker face that he wore had confirmed it. The cobalt-blue eyes, once so full of love and adoring, and every positive thing in the world, now focused on her with disappointment. As if he expected her to do this. She had failed him. Just like she failed most people.

First, her father, when she told him nervously that she didn't get into Harvard Law. Robert Zane, who was name partner of one of the biggest firms in Manhattan, had to live with the idea of his daughter, who had voluntarily nagged to become a lawyer like her father, always remaining a paralegal. A paralegal. Paralegal. Now that she was finally on her way to become a fine lawyer, something she could've never achieved without Mike Ross, she was fronted with the ordeal of losing the same person's trust all over again. Cheating on him with Logan Sanders made her go through absolute hell. Yet, it was a new relationship at those times. They'd gotten over it then. Clean slate. He'd finally gotten used to not seeing her with the vision of her kissing Logan. Just like how she'd gotten over the vision of Tess in a bedsheet at his old apartment.

Obviously she'd no idea that her beloved Micheal was fucking her ex-boss behind her back. But, you know. Little things.

"I met him on the same dating website you saw me on that day." Rachel finally spluttered, too overcome with emotion. She didn't dare meet his gaze, instead letting her eyes slide onto a picture of them together. The photograph was captured ages ago. Days when they shared everything with each other, seemed to be ages ago.

Mike watched her break in front of him. Obviously, to most of the world, she would seem composed and perfectly fine. However, in his vision - he could see the woman he still loved with some part of himself, somehow become a blubbering mess. With red-rimmed eyes, Rachel stood in front of him; wearing a cream-coloured dress, with a lacy belt, and new pumps.

_Without permission, her face became wet. She thought she had learned - how not to be upset._

A breeze drifted into the room, making the curtains fall back to reveal a hollowed aquamarine sky, with dispersing clouds. "And then?" Mike finally spoke, his voice somewhat still full of emotion.

Rachel attempted inching towards him again. This time, he simply stared at her as she sat on the bed in front of him. "We got together. All I wanted was to have a chat about the case. What he thought of the website. He was a victim of it, anyway."

She played with the ring on her finger as she waited for a reply. None came.

"Derek asked for my number, Mike. As any other lawyer, I gave him one of my main ones - thinking it could seal the deal for the case. Thinking that _he could seal the deal with the case_. He messaged me one night. Casual banter. You weren't home."

This made Mike look at her.

Feeling his gaze on her, the dark-haired woman gulped before contiung. "So, I was bored. My plans had just gotten cancelled with a friend. Christina. Not sure if you know her. I'd already had a glass of wine or two. Probably more than that. I promise to you that it didn't start with any sexual. You've got to believe me on this one. I'm just. I can't even explain what I did. I was stupid, immature, childish. I ended up putting myself first. It's only been a week, but he made me feel something. We -"

"You kissed." The man finally interrupted, sighing tiredly. He rubbed his face, leaning against the windowsill.

"Not intentionally." Seeing Mike's concerned reaction, she corrected herself - "I mean, fully-consensual, but, I would take it back if I could. I haven't been able to sleep the same since, Mike. Please." She stood up to be closer to him, but he just shook his head at her, making Rachel sit back down.

"Judging by the amount of messages you've been sending him, I'm pretty sure you've been able to sleep just fine, Rach." He muttered. Not wanting to hear more, he finally began walking towards her.

"I shouldn't have read your messages. It was an invasion of your privacy. I apologise. I was looking for Louis's number; I already told you my phone won't work. But _your lover_ kept on texting, and texting, and texting. Each and every notification from him killed me inside. I swiped right when he called, wondering if maybe I was taking it the wrong way. You want to know the first thing he said? ' _I miss you, baby._ ' " Mike casually shrugged, finally looking away.

Rachel wanted to sob at how he gritted out the two words 'your lover.' She could see how he was struggling to remain calm, not wanting to lose his cool. Not wanting to say or do something he would regret. One of the many reasons she loved him.

The type of love that would soon cease to exist.

 

 


	26. I Set Fire To The Rain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Suggestions? Thoughts? Opinions? Make sure to comment them. x

For the second time in the week, Harvey opened the door to a disgruntled Mike, who could simply stare at him as he did so. "You." Harvey greeted, raising an eyebrow. "Second time in the week; to what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Yeah, yeah, Mr. Slick. Keep on with your retorts." Mike murmured, scuffing one of his casual Converse sneakers on the large decorative plant outside Harvey's door. Harvey realised something was wrong when Mike wouldn't meet his gaze. "Come in."

The men walked towards the casual seating area, and sat across each other - each waiting for the other person to talk.

Finally, the junior partner breathed in wearily. "Rachelcheatedonme." He exhaled, finally looking up. Harvey's poker face broke through to reveal an expression of concern. "Elaborate." Harvey demanded, as he walked across to his drinks' table, and poured two neat whiskies. The first bottle in sight. No water, no soda. Just on the rocks. Filling it up to about 1/3 of the crystal square glasses, he carried them over, and passed one over without speaking. Mike took it gratefully, nodding at him. "This guy." He swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry. Tempted, he took a large sip of the whisky.

"Fuck it. So, it was this guy she met on a dating site that she was meant to be observing for a fucking case, right. Find out she's been messaging him here and there, for the past few weeks. He calls. I pick up. I'm on her phone, scrolling for Louis's number. You already know my phone turned to shit. His notifications are possesing her phone, but I ignore them. Until he calls. Obviously, I pick up - wanting to know about this. His first words? 'I miss you, baby.'" Mike gritted, as if saying all this left a bad taste in his mouth.

Harvey observed him, before reaching over for his own glass. Swishing the oak-coloured liquid in the glass, at 12pm, he looked over. "You're cheating on her, too, though, Mike. Or, you were anyway." Harvey looked away, consuming a bitter mouthful.

Mike calmly set his glass down beside him, before his emotionless eyes focused on the managing partner. "I haven't forgotten."

When Harvey didn't reply, Mike stood up and stretched, before cupping his face in his hands.

"No idea how I'm gonna face her again. I can't go back to the apartment. What am I supposed to do next, Harvey?"

 


	27. Vultures.

"Mike. I really think you should realise you aren't the only victim here. Yeah, she isn't aware of the fact that we were screwing each other behind her back - but maybe this would be a good time to come clean. Ease up her guilt a little." Harvey finally spoke, clenching his jaw. Mike Ross let his gaze roam around the studio he so often visited, before focusing on the man in front of him. Both of the men were saying all these things, but their thoughts were completely different from the words leaving their mouths. Licking his lips, Ross drained the remaining liquid in the glass, before shrugging bitterly.

"And." The older man spoke again, intercepting before Ross could even begin to start another sentence.

"There might even be a chance for us." Specter mumbled emotionally, his knuckles turning white from gripping the glass so hard. All sense of self-respect, ego, and pride left him, as he uttered those words. Mike stared at him, the words he was previously about to say - completely forgotten. "Harvey." His lips parted in surprise, before he leaned over to look the same cocky name-partner in the eyes.

Harvey met his gaze reluctantly, his face visibly tensed. "Right, yeah, I know it's too soon. But, I'm thinking about us. I'm a complete fuck-up - can't deny that one. Yet, I don't want to be in a life in which you aren't around, Mike. It fucks me up even further to think about. I play around, I sleep around a lot. None of these people in this life I built, mean as much as you do. Don't you dare mock me for being all 'gay.'" Harvey stood up, unable to sit still after saying all this. His navy shirt clung to his body; his sweatpants making his figure look athletic, and hunky. He grabbed the silent Mike's glass, and his own, taking them over to the bar again. Filling them up to the brim this time, he hid his expression from Mike's sight.

All Mike could see was Harvey's inflamed ears, that were turning a subtle red. For a man with such an impressive poker face - Harvey's red ears always gave him away to the people he was closest to. Not many knew of this; in fact, no one would even notice it. But, Mike had spent days and nights going over the other man's body. One he was now so familiar with. He could probably reconstruct every twitch, every vein, every birthmark on his ex-lover's body. 

"No one said I wasn't gonna be in your life anymore, Harvey." Mike swallowed, looking around. "I'm still here. Hanging around."

"I know. Doesn't really feel like it sometimes. Which is shitty to say, considering I'm hardly ever there for you." The other man promptly replied, his gorgeous face relaxing. With broad shoulders, and an irresistible smile - Harvey Specter was truly a work of art.

"Actually, Harvey," The two men were unable to stop smiling at each other as Harvey handed over the refilled glass. "You're always there. I don't give a shit about what you think of yourself. What matters is what I think about you."

"I want to be _better_ for you. Be there permanently. I don't know rat's ass about whether you're still sticking around with Rachel or not, but I fucking need you."


	28. That'll Come With A Side Of Despair, Costs Not Included.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nofuckingbody:  
> Mike & Harvey in this chapter: 🤡🤡

They'd ended up on the sofa, their glasses of whisky long forgotten. With a shirtless Harvey exhaling gently on top of an affectionate Mike - the clock in the corner ticked the time. Harvey's face was red, his eyes steely and focused, and his mouth pursued into a soft smile. Mike returned the expression, and adjusted Harvey on top of him, bringing him in between one of his legs. The room's scent was entirely male.

The hotshot lawyer cupped Mike's face. "I meant what I said earlier."

"And I never said you didn't." Came the snarky reply, as he met Harvey's lips with his own again.

"You have the knack to doubt people. I know you do. I wanted to reconfirm it. Can you really blame a man for doing that?" Harvey pulled away, leaning back away casually.

"Depends on the 'man' that's being referenced here." Mike Ross cooed, running a hand through his hair. Hair. He was so glad to have his hair back, especially after that choppy haircut from Danbury. Whilst he respected the friendship he'd built with Kevin; it was an experience that still fucked him over when he awoke from his nightmares.

The two men smiled at each other, as if they were in on a joke that no one else in the world knew about - or would ever understand.

"Whilst there's nothing I'd wanna do more than this," Mike breathed in between longing kisses, "What the everliving fuck am I supposed to do about Rachel?" He murmured concerningly, the thought making his jeans completely flat after being tented for so long. He could literally feel the sexual demeanour sizzle away from him.

A matter-of-factly Harvey stood up, stretched - his body rippling from the effect, and took a seat opposite Mike, knowing they couldn't go back to being all loveydovey if Mike was still hung over this. Leaning over, Harvey picked up the watery glass of Mike's whiskey, distractedly. The ice-cubes had long melted, and left the steel-sharpened glasses frosty.

"Come clean about what you did."

"Are you being serious?"

"Listen -"

But, Mike never got a chance to listen, since someone knocked on the front door. Since they were right in the living area; they weren't even given the time to act, before a red-faced Rachel breezed in, holding a key in her hand.

Harvey and Mike shared a stricken expression, as if to say "What's she doing here?" before they both realized what the situation looked like to her anew eyes.

Rachel Zane took in the sight of messily draped sofas, covered with a jacket and seemingly Harvey's shirt. Her eyes wandered to spot the two men.

Mike, with his growing stubble, was facing the other way, and seemed to be tense about something. His t-shirt was all crumpled, and the back of his neck red. Harvey with a 5'o'clock shadow, was sitting in direct view of Rachel's sight - shirtless, donned in sweatpants, and holding a glass of alcohol. He looked irritated, as if he was about to ask her what the fuck she was thinking, casually prancing into his studio - with one of the spare keys he'd given to Mike.

Nothing about this view made any sense to Rachel, as she bit her lip, confused. But, the most heart-stopping thing occurred to her. Mike's engagement ring, was casually lying on the glass coffee table; ignored, neglected.

As if he'd entirely given up on any thought of them ever patching up again. Just that one thought was enough to make her want to buckle her knees, and sob.

Then, and only then - she realized what they were doing.

 


	29. Share Of Blame

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh, my life has been a mess.

"Why." Rachel finally croaked, a hand on the door-handle, and the other grasping her handbag; ready to leave. Mike licked his lips hesitantly, wondering if Harvey was going to make the first move. Then, he half-stood up himself, ready to talk. "Rache-"

"Save it. You really left me in a guilty mess, Mike. Yet, here you are. Screwing the man who had once hired you." Her eyes raked over Harvey in insecurity, and betrayal.

Harvey merely clenched his jaw, his red-rimmed eyes looking away and focusing on a pot plant instead - it was his own fault. And, he never made excuses for something he was entirely responsible for.

"Yeah, I fucked up. But you aren't in a position to throw around accusations, either, Rach. You aren't an entire saint either." Mike replied, his voice steely.

The shine in Rachel's eyes disappeared, and she plastered on a bitchy smile. "So that totally excuses you from everything you did, then, right?"

The phone rang in the other room, and was ignored by all three.

As Harvey shrugged on a shirt behind them; Mike continued relentlessly, his once blue eyes full of so much adoration and love - now narrowing on the dark-haired woman facing him. "I won't even attempt to justify what I did. But, you might as well know. It was never the same. Since I left Danbury. What killed me, was that you deserved better. I could barely sleep because of it. Here I was, a fraud, a label that seems to hang over my head everywhere I go. Yet, you were pursuing your dreams, becoming that lawyer that you deserved to be… with a fiancé in prison. Surely I'm not the only one who thinks this way."

Harvey Specter didn't give a shit about what Rachel thought of all this - but all he knew was that he wanted to pull the other man closer to him. To reassure him that he wasn't the lowlife that he thought himself to be.

Apparently, this seemed to struck a nerve in Rachel too, making her melt for the man she still loved. "It's not like that, Mike."

Yet, he simply smiled in shame, shrugging as if it was nothing. "I'm a motherfucker for even thinking about cheating on you, but I haven't been thinking straight. And, neither do I want you to deal with someone like me."

"This is worse than one of those chick-flicks." Harvey muttered, walking over to his cabinets and pulling out mugs. He knew that neither of them could blame each other. They were equal to their share of blame. What happened when both parties were guilty, usually ended in a settlement of some sort. Whether it be in the courthouse, or in their own houses - no tears were spared. From experience, Specter knew that there'd be a lot of emotional confessing, tears, and repeated apologies to take place. All he sarcastically wondered was why all the drama had to happen in his own studio.

As they both talked in the background - calming down considerably; Harvey poured three servings of coffee into each mug; adding a dash of vanilla into his own. He hadn't gone into the office today. This was one of those annual days-off for Harvey - he remembered that when he first started at the firm, he had broken up with a fling on the same day as today, and Jessica jokingly told him to take the day off to "become a man again." The next year, his brother's friend had died - and Harvey had to show up to the funeral. Ever since then, Donna had made it an inside joke ( back when she was his secretary ) and ended up blanking out the same day every year in his calendar.

Yet, it was so ironic - considering how he'd recently just had shit hit the fan with Donna. Only now he realized what a pussy he seemed like for not showing up after doing such a thing.

Groaning internally at the thought; Harvey walked over and set the mugs in front of them both. Rachel smiled at him weakly, before lifting up hers and taking a hesitant sip. She'd aged years during these two weeks; yet she couldn't even raise a finger at Mike for all of it; as she was responsible for the blame as well.

Sighing as if this all was a tremendous effort for him, Mike focused his gaze on Harvey; trying not to redden at the thoughts of what they were doing earlier when Harvey caught his gaze, and gave him a small knowing smile.

"What do you wanna do?" Mike finally spoke, still watching Harvey as the man effortlessly took a seat next to Rachel, and set his mug down before rubbing his jaw in sleep-deprivation. Rachel observed Harvey as well; as if he was suddenly an object that required full-attention.

"What?" Harvey said out-loud when he realized that the couple were watching him. "I'm not the one with the ring on my finger. Atleast, not yet."

Harvey winked discreetly at Mike when he knew Rachel wasn't watching him any longer - and Rachel shut her eyes, not knowing whether to laugh or cry.

"Do you… are you… serious about him?" Ross finally asked, saying the words as if it took all of his energy to even think about it.

Rachel Zane fiddled with the ring on her finger, finally looking up before speaking.

 


	30. Moving On & Getting Over

"Yes." She finally murmured; her peach-coloured gloss clinging to her lips as she did so. She managed to gaze directly at Mike as she said this, running a hand through her dark, volumed hair. "He does mean something to me, Mike. Yeah, it sounds foolish. And, I haven't met him since that day; I promise yo-"

"You say that as if I'm supposed to trust you on that." Mike Ross interrupted sarcastically, rolling his eyes and exchanging a look with Harvey, who was sitting beside Rachel - as if to say "Would you get a load of all this?"

This sentence clearly affected Rachel, because she closed her eyes briefly, and gave a small nod as if she was expecting that. Exhaling, Rachel Zane looked up again before shrugging carelessly. 

"I'm just really sorry we couldn’t make this work out, you know? I know for a fact that I've tried on my end."

Even Mike couldn't disagree with this. The sharp expression that Mike was wearing, dissolved into a soft smile. "Yeah, Rach. You really have. And you do deserve better."

Harvey Specter, clearly unamused, took a sip from his mug, and looked at them both, reflecting silently. "Luckily for you, my first name happens to be 'Better.'" Harvey joked towards Rachel, who groaned in response: "Too soon. I don't even want to be hearing jokes from the man who my fiancé is cheating on me with."

Shaking his head as if hearing that pained him deeply - the name partner cleared his throat, becoming all matter-of-factly again. "The thing is, that we're all adults here. Yeah, we've all been misdirected slightly with our morals, but I think that it's as clear as day. Rachel, you're interested in some other guy, and so is Mike. I mean, I'm assuming."

"That doesn't mean anything." Rachel tried again, fidgeting desperately. Her eyes landed on Mike again as she tried to detect even a bit of love that he had left for her. Mike avoided the eye contact, as he leaned back on Harvey's couch, attempting to assess the entire sitauation; trying to see it from Harvey's point of view.

"It means a lot, Rachel. You wouldn't think so, but it does. We should end this. I really don't see a point of return to what it used to be. I already went through it when I had to deal with seeing the sight of you kissing Logan everytime I fucking looked at you. And now, we're both at fault."

Rachel merely nodded, presenting the both of them with a weak smile. "I really can't deal with this right now. I'm going over to the office. See you some time."

"Right." Mike stretched, as Harvey stood up to go open the door for her. "This is all a bit fucked up, isn't it?" He retorted to her. She tilted her head, before trying to gather words to say. Apparently, they had failed her, because all she could muster was a nod. "It's not your fault, Harvey. I mean it is. Definitely is. But I can't blame you for a choice that Mike had to make."

"I'm still here, you know." Mike called out casually, before cupping his face in his hands - wondering what he was going to do about all this. He felt like such a fuck-up.

As Harvey gave Rachel a reassuring smile, he grabbed the door before it could shut behind her. "Hey, so listen - I think you're a brilliant woman, and I'll respect your decision if you don't want to talk to me after all this shit happening."

Rachel paused mid-step, before rubbing her forehead. "Thanks, but I really don't know what to think right now, to be honest with you. I'll see you at the firm, sometime soon, maybe."

Harvey raised his hands in mock-surrender. "Sounds decent enough."

As he walked away, and as the door shut behind Rachel so that she was left in the studio's hallway - she took in a deep breath, silently wondering how any of this was fair. They both were to blame, but she couldn't just walk away from a relationship like that. It went against everything she believed in.

And, yeah, cheating on Mike _again_ went against morals that she believed in, too - but there was a fine line between feeling guilty for something like that when infact, Mike had rewarded her by doing the same behind her back.

She, out of all people knew, that emotions couldn't be controlled. All it took was one sensual smile; one word; one nostalgic moment. Feelings came hurtling back.

So the only thing left to do - in Harvey's words - was to be an adult and get over it.

 

 

 


End file.
